


SOMA Shorts

by jaygirl987



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4721981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaygirl987/pseuds/jaygirl987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of little bits and pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Suit and Tie

* * *

 

 

 

  "Soul, stop moping, already!" 

  He sighed exasperatingly. "Why do we even have to go to shit like this? It's so fucking stupid!" Soul tugged on the collar of his dress shirt, scowling at his meister as her small hands smacked his fingers away from the stiff fabric.

   " _Because_ , Soul..." she adjusted his tie, gaining great satisfaction in tugging him down to her level a little more.

  He didn't know why she bothered- he'd probably just yank it askew later to mess with her, anyway. Was it childish? Sure. He felt like a child right now anyway- what, with her fussing over his appearance and lecturing him about manners and behaving himself. "Because _why_?" He was starting to whine. He knew it. She knew it. He couldn't care less. This was so lame! Maka had done her best to placate him with promises of making it up to him later. Damn right, she was gonna make it up to him! It didn't help his situation now, though.

  Maka released the silk beneath her hands to rub her temples in a vain attempt to ward off her impending headache. She was starting to feel more like a babysitter and less like the girlfriend of her death scythe weapon with each passing moment. " ** _Because_** ," she spoke through gritted teeth. "It's our **job**. Just part of what we do-" she pointed a finger at him as he opened his mouth, cutting off whatever smart-assed thing he was going to say. "Look," her frown softened as he shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. "I know that you hate these things, but just try to bear it, okay?"

  Soul shot her a glance out of the corner of his eye. He sighed. He knew that Maka understood just how much of an introvert he truly was. No sense in dragging her down with him, even though nothing tended to help a bad mood more than spreading it around, in his opinion. He decided that maybe he should humor her, if only for this one event. Besides, she looked ridiculously good in her little get-up.

  A waiter walked by and Soul took the opportunity to snatch a glass of champagne off of the silver tray with finesse, offering it to Maka, who shook her head politely in refusal. With a shrug of his shoulders, he lifted the crystal to his lips and was surprised at how tasty it was. This party was looking up! 

  Barely. He never thought he'd miss Black Star's antics as much as he did right at this very moment, surrounded by strangers that he didn't know or care to remember. The ninja and his weapon were out on a mission currently, anyway.

  Maka glanced up at her weapon, admiring his strong profile as he stared absentmindedly off to the left, his boredom and irritation palpable. She felt badly for Soul, who always tended to tense up and close up tighter than a clam when it came to stuffy parties like this. Maka didn't necessarily like them either, but it was a fun little excuse to get all dressed up in fancy clothes for the evening.

  Maka had a thing for formal wear; a certain weakness that tended to keep her mind in the gutter and her mouth watering at the sight of her weapon partner sharply dressed in his black suit and tie, looking every inch the dashing and smart-looking male specimen that she knew lurked under that cool guy image.

  Soul knew about her little, what he called a "nerdy fetish" for his ties, which explained why she was constantly straightening it and fidgeting with it while fighting off the urge to use it as a leash to tug him back to their room.

  His attitude had softened a little in the last few minutes as she stood beside him, gawking up at him lustfully, wishing that she could just leave so that she could be alone with him. In that suit. Smelling so delicious.

  Maybe she should reward him for his recent good behavior? A little sneak peak of what she had in store for him this evening? A little taste, perhaps?

  She tugged on his jacket sleeve, "Hey, Soul. I'll make you a deal-" he tilted his head toward her ever so slightly, his eyes still scanning the room with mild interest. It irked her that he was partially ignoring her, but she'd get his full attention soon. "If you act decently for at least another two hours," she leaned up on tiptoes, her breath grazing his ear as he tensed slightly. "You'll get a treat."

  Soul's eyebrows shot up in piqued curiosity, his vermillion eyes finally giving her his full attention, ignoring the brief bristling of his pride at the way her words made him feel like a fucking dog. A smirk began to curve at the corner of his mouth at the look in her eyes, though- his deep voice sending her stomach into acrobats. "What kinda treat?" He had leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, his hand resting warm and heavy upon the small of her back.

  Thank goodness they were in a shadowed corner by the balcony doors! It was so tempting to just leave now, to make up some sort of an excuse to get them back to their hotel room for the rest of the night without so much as a backwards glance. But, this meant a lot to Kid, it was a work function, and Maka knew that she should be able to reign in her ridiculous need that she always seemed to have for her weapon. She wasn't exactly sure as to when she became so insatiable, but thankfully Soul didn't seem to mind; in fact, he encouraged it- helping to fan the flames wherever and whenever, causing a bonfire with something as little as a wink.

  Maka tilted her head back as Soul's lips brushed across her cheekbone, his eyelashes fluttering across her temple. "If you're a good boy, maybe you'll find out. It's a surprise."

  He hummed a response as one of his hands gently skimmed the warm flesh of the back of her exposed arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "Have I told you yet how great you look in this thing?"

  It wasn't a lie. The black satin gown that Maka had chosen for the extremely formal ball had a graceful and timeless charm to it, the back dipping just deeply enough to expose the delicious flesh of her middle and upper back, the capped sleeves highlighting her delicate but strong shoulders. It hugged her hips then mildly flaired out at her knees. 

  It'd been a bit funny trying to watch her bend down to put on her shoes, a rather unlady-like curse slipping from her lips, and Soul had sighed in irritation as he'd knelt down in front of her to help with the task (snorting a little in spite of himself at her when she made a stupid Cinderella reference), but now that he had a moment that wasn't occupied with him cursing his luck at having to be here, he appreciatively drank in her form fully. 

  She smiled, her small hands pushing him away a little. They were in public, they had to stay for at least another couple of hours, and getting her engines revved up now would be nothing short of torture. Tempting torture. "No," she giggled a little at his frown of displeasure at her distance between them. "But I can tell from that look in your eyes that maybe this dress was worth the price..." Her cheeks tinted pink, and Soul tilted his head at her reaction curiously. "And hopefully, so is the surprise that's hiding underneath it."

   "Hah???" His eyes were wide, mouth open in mild shock as he stared at her.

  She merely blinked up at him innocently, but he knew better. Oh, did he know better.

  Fucking tease.

  Fucking minx.

  Dammit all!

  Her lips (tinted red with lip stain, courtesy of Liz Thompson) were moving, but he couldn't hear what she was saying. He shook his head a little, blood pounding in his ears as little images of what could possibly be underneath that fabric shuffled through his mind as easily as a card dealer handling a deck in Vegas. 

   "I _said_ ," she gave his forearm a gentle squeeze as she continued to peer up at him through her lashes. "Could you check the heel of my right shoe for me?" Her fingertips grazed the lapel of his jacket, her voice husky and delicious as she murmured, "Please?"

  A glimpse at what he could expect later was implied.

  Done.

  Soul handed her his glass, kneeling down as both weapon and meister's eyes quickly darted around the large room to make sure that none of the guests were watching them. His hand lifted the satin hem a little, with the pretense of checking her shoe for her, like any good partner would. 

  After a quick glance up at her (she was demurely sipping on his champagne and commenting about how the bubbles tickled), she gave him a barely perceptible nod, and his fingers trailed up her ankle, feathered up her calf, squirmed a little at the confined space as the fabric began to narrow, grazed over her knee and instantly collided into a strip of lace that banded all around her thigh.

  Lace silk stockings. What a devil. Very nice. Very nice, indeed.

  He wanted to keep going, to let his arm transform into a blade and slice away the offending fabric right here, consequences be damned. He almost grumbled at her as her hand began to push him back and away from the teasing glimpse of what lay beneath the surface, finding it harder to breath at the sight of the faint blush tinting her cheeks and the steady rhythm of her chest as she fought to calm her racing heart at his touch.

  He was already undressing her with his dark eyes as he stood slowly, never breaking eye contact, wondering what else was involved underneath that damn gown that had him itching to turn Death Scythe on that obsidian fabric.

  Oh, how he wanted to find out. Now. Right fucking now.

  Maka handed him back his glass as he tugged on his tie with a small throat clearing noise, turning to face the room, a cool and collected façade not giving any hints to the lascivious mist swirling around thickly behind his crimson gaze, glancing back at her and narrowing his eyes as if to say, ' _uncalled for.'_

She merely giggled, shrugging her shoulders daintily and smoothing the skirt of her gown as Soul took another drink of his champagne, his mouth suddenly dry. He almost missed her murmured, "Blair liked it..."

  He choked, his throat constricting as he fought to get air back into his burning lungs while Maka enthusiastically slapped him on the back.

  She was the devil. A devious little sinner with the face of a saint and the body of an angel.

  A familiar voice called out to them, and she sauntered a few steps ahead of him, making her way over to Kid and the Thompson sisters, pausing to shoot a sultry smile over her shoulder. "Come on, Soul. We don't want to keep Kid waiting!"

  He didn't give two fucks about the uptight shinigami at the moment, his perverted mind trying to wrap around an idea of what she could possibly be hiding under that damn dress that was driving him to distraction and causing her to blush a little more with every backward glance at him. His pants were getting more and more uncomfortable as the idea of throwing her over his shoulder and storming to their hotel room with a middle finger in the air began to have more and more merit.

  Fuck, this was torture.

  Did he remember to pack the condoms? He did.

  He watched as Kid extended his arm out to Maka, leading her over to a group of fellow meisters to be introduced while Patty and Liz made a beeline for the bar, Soul left to ponder just how much longer he could last before collapsing into a puddle of gooey hormonal rage, panting like the fucking dog that he was.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

  The elevator doors had no sooner closed then Soul had rounded upon her, backing her into a corner and boxing her in with his arms. His lips were desperate against the soft and exposed skin of her perfumed neck, his knee wanting to wedge between her thighs, but the dress's shape was being very uncooperative.

  Maka squeaked, her hands pressed flat against her weapon's chest. "Soul," her voice didn't have much of its usual authoritative edge as his tongue traced a path to her ear, his breath blowing her loose curls out of his way. "Just wait-we're almost to the room!"

  "No," he growled. His chest rumbled beneath her fingertips and Maka couldn't fight the shivers racing down her spine to collect as an immediate pool of warmth between her legs. "Fucking tease. Longest two hours of my damn life." His hands roamed her sides, pulling her against him roughly as Maka eyed their elevator's progress over his shoulder, the lit buttons inching closer to their floor.

   "Well," her breath was beginning to come out in pants and gasps as his teeth tugged on her earlobe before sucking it into his mouth. "You've been a very- AHA!- very good boy- OH!" Damn that tongue of his! One of his hands was cupping a breast through her gown, her eyes sliding shut as she melted into his touch helplessly. 

  He hummed, placing kisses along her jawline, his lips brushing hers. "I've been a _**very**_ good boy," his tongue traced her bottom lip, smirking at her state of breathlessness. "Almost ripped this thing off of you a couple times."

  She almost whimpered as he abruptly pulled away from her, standing up straight as the elevator doors slid open to reveal their floor at last. Maka cleared her throat, tried to calm her heart and catch her breath, but it proved pointless when, with a surprised squeal, Soul's hand gripped hers and began to pull her towards their room with haste.

  Maka tried to keep up as Soul took long strides down the carpeted hallway. "Soul, slow down! For the love of-"

  The key was produced in a flash and Maka quickly found herself pushed across the threshold, the door closing behind them with a click, her body trembling as her partner stood behind her, his fingers set to unzipping the gown before she could even gain her wits.

   "Soul! Wait! What are you-" she gripped the loosening fabric to her chest, but it was a vain effort on her part as her weapon partner spun her around, his strong hands tugging the gown down her arms, his mouth latching onto her bare shoulder, her sighs and gasps stirring him even further as his fingers yanked the dress over her abdomen, down her thighs, his foot trampling it down before backing up enough to finally see just what had been lurking beneath the layers, driving him to the brink of insanity all evening.

  Soul groaned at the sight of his meister's body in the strapless black corset, his hands turning into fists at his side, clenching and unclenching as he tried to summon enough willpower to not shred her ensemble into tiny little confetti-sized pieces. His hands slowly found her, fingertips digging into her waist as his eyes continued to drink in the matching black lace panties, complete with those damn black lace trimmed stockings.

  Dammit all- her and her lace. He was rock hard in seconds, his chest constricting almost painfully with extreme want. He knelt before her, hands gripping her waist firmly as he rested his forehead against her stomach. One of his hands released its hold to allow his fingers to tease the ridiculously soft pale skin above a stocking, already eager to strip her right where they stood. "This is gonna be a long night."

  His dark promise left her breathless as she gulped, his fingers reaching for the clasps in the back of her corset to undo the restricting and thick fabric keeping her skin away from his eager mouth. Her eyes widened as she heard him growling impatiently, frustrated at all of the silver clasps hindering his normally quick progress. 

  She could practically read his very first thought, cutting it short with a "Don't you dare!" She stepped back, out of the pool of her (now) crinkled dress as she backed away a few steps. "This was expensive, and you're not ruining it!" She squeaked the last part as he stood, his eyes dark and the color of blood as he advanced upon her. She stumbled backwards, the backs of her legs coming into contact with the mattress, almost falling onto it but quickly gaining her balance. 

  Soul stripped himself of his jacket, tossing it to the side. "How'd you even do that thing up by yourself?" He kicked off his uncomfortable as fuck dress shoes, followed by his thin dress socks as Maka explained that Liz had helped her after she'd done her hair and makeup for her. Soul grumbled as he spun her around, his fingers deftly undoing every clasp before flinging the thick corset away from his prize.

  Before Maka could even take a breath, Soul had turned her around (much slower this time) to face him once more, his mouth hard and forceful against hers as his tongue quickly swept inside, robbing her of any half-assed protest that she might even try to make. He broke the kiss to gently shove her backwards, watching her settle into the mattress with a predatory gaze. She shuddered as his knees straddled her, his hands supporting his weight and resting on either side of her hips, Maka leaning up on her elbows as Soul's tongue darted out to lick the valley between her breasts. 

  She bit her lip and tilted her head back, eyes sliding closed in sweet relief, sighing as he kissed a path down to the lace resting upon her hips. His fingers slid up the sensitive skin of her sides to brush briefly across both nipples simultaneously, her gasp echoing in his ears. The fingers that drove her crazy in so many ways feathered back down to her hips, hooking beneath the delicate fabric and tugging it down to her thighs as she lifted her hips slightly to help him quicken their removal.

  Maka lifted her head, green eyes wide as she watched, mouth hanging open in wonder and apt fascination as her weapon's nimble tongue wrapped completely around the lace, pulling it into his mouth, his sharp teeth grasping it firmly before tugging it (achingly) slowly down, down, down. 

  Maka moaned as she watched, mesmerized by the God-given natural talent of that smart mouth, deftly trained in the delicate art of eating souls, as he edged down to the floor to kneel at the foot of the bed, popping back up with her panties hanging from his teeth, his lips curled into a triumphant smile as his eyebrows waggled playfully.

  She giggled at how proud he was of himself, and she had to admit, that was probably the sexiest thing that she'd ever seen or experienced. Maka's mind was reeling, unable to right itself before Soul leaned forward and grabbed her hips, yanking her closer to the foot of the bed. She trembled and moaned as his tongue (that fucking tongue!) licked the quivering flesh above her stockings, his breath hot as it washed over her sensitive skin, strong hands throwing her legs over his shoulders. 

  Soul's eyes flicked back to hers, practically glowing with a savage need to make her scream, to feel her come all the way down into the depth of his soul. Jagged teeth gripped the lace band that adorned her left thigh, tugging and pulling the silk stocking down her thigh, over her knee, past her calf, before yanking it off of her toes, only to travel the same course back up her long leg with his tongue.

  She gasped at the sensation, his tongue pausing at the inside of her knee to suck and nibble at the flesh, making her squirm and writhe beneath him. She whimpered his name, begged him to stop tormenting her. 

  He grinned at her before turning his head and letting his teeth grip the other stocking, giving her other leg the same attention, lavishing the sensitive inner skin of her other knee with hard sucks and nips, ignoring her cries and pleas to stop teasing her.

  She seemed to be appealing to emotions that he simply did not have at the moment. Maka knew that she was getting her just desserts for earlier in the evening, but it was almost painful as his tongue traced lazy circles around the inside of both thighs, acting as if he wasn't hard enough to fuck his way through a vault.

   "Soul-" she whimpered, still resting her weight upon her elbows, clutching at the bedding with desperate fingers, feeling herself growing wetter by the second, hips jerking and legs trembling. "Please," she begged, unable to keep her voice from breaking on a sob. Tears of frustration were gathering at the corners of her eyes as she whimpered, his breath hot against her core as his lips hovered over her aching flesh.

  "Maka."

  She opened her eyes, meeting his molten gaze. 

   "Tell me you want this." His eyes could burn her with the heat emanating from them.

  "I want this." The words were strained but quick in her immediate admission. She swallowed, her breath coming out in short pants as she struggled to hold back her cry of frustration. "I want you now- please!"

  Good answer.

  Soul's tongue immediately sought out her clit, pulling it into his mouth and sucking, his tongue swirling around the swollen nub for less than thirty seconds before she came with a shout, her voice almost hoarse from her cries, her hips grinding against his mouth, her back arching almost violently from the painful pleasure before shaking and collapsing against the mattress with relief, eyes blinking blearily at the ceiling as she drew breath after shuddering breath.

  Wow. Just wow.

  Soul's incredulous face came into view as he straddled her, staring down at her, smugness at his own abilities to get her so wound up practically tangible as he leaned down to kiss her neck, growling as her fingers splayed up into his hair to tug and pull on the soft white strands. 

  Maka realized that her weapon was still clothed (a huge foul, in her book) in his dress pants and crisp shirt, her fingers tugging it's hem out from the confines of his slacks, his sigh of relief setting her on fire.

   "Have I told you how amazing you look in a suit?" She murmured against his lips before claiming them for a deep kiss.

  Soul's low voice rumbled in his chest as he groaned softly at her tongue's caresses. She broke away to plant kisses along his jaw, her tongue tracing along his collar as he sighed, "Nope. Made me think that maybe you didn't like it." It was a blatant lie. He knew it. She knew it. It never seemed to matter what Soul said or did in formal wear; as long as he wore a suit and tie- she'd forgive any transgression.

  She undid the first three buttons of his white shirt before giving into her urge, ripping it open and listening to the little buttons flying every which way. Instead of being angry, Soul sat back on his heels with a chuckle, pulling what remained off with haste as her fingers made quick work of his belt, undoing the zipper and tugging the fabric down as quickly as possible. She slapped his hands away from his tie, ignoring his arched eyebrow at her request to leave it alone.

  Once his pants and boxers were out of the way, Maka wrapped the tie around her hand and pulled him down to her, her mouth every bit as demanding and unyielding as her grip on the silk as she arched into him. 

  Soul groaned as he tried to grind against her a little before having to grab a condom, whimpering (so uncool) as she blocked him with her knees. He growled against her neck after three more unsuccessful tries, his patience wearing thin.

   "Soul?" She breathed against his neck, her eyes glassy and thick with passion as she tilted her head and gazed at him through long lashes. 

   "Hmm?" His lips were working their way down her neck, his tongue trailing across her collarbone, smirking against flushed skin as she gasped lightly. 

   "I-" A small moan as he nipped at the column of her throat. "I have another part to your surprise!"

   "Oh?" His mouth latched onto one of her nipples, her cry echoing in his ears and setting his blood ablaze as he released her quickly, placing a brief kiss on her breathless lips. "Go on." He circled her other nipple with his tongue as she struggled to remember what they were even talking about. He nipped at the sensitive flesh lightly. "Can't be more lingerie..." He chuckled before latching onto the skin beneath her breast, leaving a pretty decent mark as he waited to hear what else she had planned.

  She gulped, struggling to get enough air into her lungs. "P-pill-" she moaned as his mouth trailed lower, his intent more than evident as he tried to reach her clit again as sweet punishment for denying him. She yanked on the tie, pulling him back up to her face, ignoring his irritated grunt at her interruption before she murmured against his lips, "I'm on the pill now."

  Soul sat back and blinked at her twice, his mouth dropping open as her words slowly sunk in. Just as she was beginning to wonder if she'd broken him, his mouth crashed into hers with the force of a meteorite, a primal groan of need reverberating against her as he tried, rather unsuccessfully, once more to grind against her. 

  When her knees blocked him again, intent on setting the pace herself, something inside of him snapped. Gone was the cool and collected Soul she'd come to know and expect, replaced with a desperate and rough shadow of her partner. His hands were everywhere, spreading her legs apart with more force than he'd ever used before, settling himself between her thighs and pushing his weight on her to pin her effectively and gain the upper hand.

  Maka still clutched his tie in her fingers, her last piece of leverage. She tugged his head to the side, her mouth latching onto his neck to leave a mark of her own, trying to remind him who was still in charge, here.

  No such luck. All she'd furthered to do was string him tighter than a piano wire, any intentions of holding onto his last semblances of behaving like a gentleman burned to ashes by the liquid flames licking at him and coursing through his veins unchecked.

  He needed her. Now. Whether she was ready or not, it was happening.

  Ripping the fabric from her iron grip at last, he wasted no time in flipping her over onto her stomach, heedless to her cry of shock as he pulled her hips toward him and plunged into her with one hard thrust, his chest melting against her back as her bare heat surrounded him, pulsing and quivering around him tightly.

  So fucking good.

  Amazing.

  Words couldn't describe the depths of his elation at the feeling of her, hot and wet and silky as he shuddered, calming himself enough to not lose his shit like a fucking virgin. Without a condom was the only way to go.

  It wasn't until he caught his breath a little that he froze, his grip around her waist almost painful as he realized what he'd done; he'd taken the lead and the control away from his meister and forced her into a submissive position, one that they hadn't even tried yet.

  Big mistake. Huge no-no.

  Fuuuuucckk. What was the _matter_ with him? He was so beyond screwed. She was gonna end him, and it would be nothing short of disastrous. He'd probably be better off become a celibate right now. She'd never trust him again, let alone allow him to touch her. Goodbye partnership, sayonara resonance, and farewell life.

  She was silent and tense beneath him as he unwound an arm from around her waist, his hand crawling forward and covering one of hers gently. "Maka?" He croaked, trying to stay as still as a statue, out of both concern for her (was she even breathing?) and deference to his dick that was screaming for him to move, threatening to shoot his load any second. "I'm so sorry, I don't know wha- AH!"

  She rocked her hips back against him, grinding into him with a moan as Soul gasped, the hand that covered hers gripping her fingers in a vice, his breath hot against her ear as his other hand used her waist as an anchor to steady himself, pressing into her back heavily as he draped himself across her. She arched into him, pushing back against him, urging him to move, for the love of Death, **NOW**!

  Soul shuddered, trying to tell her that he wasn't gonna last, but all that came out was a garbled whine, his mouth open and breath hot against her shoulder as he thrust only a few more times before his orgasm crashed over him like a tsunami, his teeth almost piercing her pale flesh as he actually cried out in ecstasy, his voice loud and unyielding as he cried out over and over, her walls clenching him and sucking him dry. 

  He almost collapsed against her, his mind barely registering that Maka was whimpering, trying to get him to keep moving, aching for relief that she had been denied. 

  With a hiss at the immediate cold sensation, Soul withdrew shakily, gripping her legs and flipping her onto her back with ease. She gasped, sitting up on her elbows as her weapon leaned down, throwing one long leg over his shoulder, her voice lost as he thrust two fingers inside of her immediately, his tongue setting out to rob her of her sanity while providing the rush that she so desperately craved. 

  It didn't take long for her to call out his name, back arching and fingers pulling on albino strands as she came hard, thighs clenching his shoulders as he continued to stroke her, prolonging the bliss that she'd almost been denied.

  She collapsed against the bed, her chest heaving as Soul placed a tender kiss above her navel, immediately collapsing on top of her as well. His cheek was hot against her abdomen as his hands gently stroked her sides, her fingers relenting on the tight grip of his hair and caressing his scalp. 

  His voice was a little hoarse from his earlier cries, "Wow. That was..."

  Incredible? Mind-blowing? Amazing? Unexpected? Perfect? Astounding? Fuck him- the list just went on and on.

  Best surprise ever.

  She giggled, exhausted and wonderfully sated. Soul's arms wrapped around her and gave her a gentle squeeze before letting go so that he could crawl his way up her body on shaky knees, collapsing beside her with a groan. She scooted back as well, grimacing slightly at the sensation of 'something' beginning to slide and ooze out of her. She hadn't expected _that_...

  Grabbing Soul's torn dress shirt, she pulled her arms through the sleeves, standing and murmuring that she'd be right back before heading towards the bathroom on still shaky legs. She had a new respect for Soul; trying to walk after sex was pretty awkward and damn difficult.

  Soul snickered at her state from where he was currently propped up with his back against the headboard, the sheet draped across his lower half as he ran his fingers through his hair. She shot him a small disgruntled glare before closing the bathroom door. 

  After cleaning up, which was mildly unpleasant, she inspected her marked body with a quick glance in the mirror, not surprised to see the usual ones that would always appear on her neck, but a lot surprised at the large one below her right breast. 

  She sighed. _Seriously?_ That damn mouth of his! She had to thank her lucky stars that at least it was somewhere that no one could see.

  Soul was still in the same position when she finally made her way back to bed, joining him in leaning her back against the headboard, resting her head against his shoulder and watching his hand reach for hers to entwine their fingers. He lifted their conjoined digits to his mouth, pressing a kiss against them as she smiled. 

   They turned to each other, lips meeting in a tender kiss, sighing into each other's mouths as his other hand began to pull the starched shirt from her shoulder, his mouth grazing against the soft skin as she stroked the back of his head. 

  Soul pulled her into his lap, their foreheads pressing together as she cupped his face, his eyes remaining open as hers closed in contented bliss. She whispered that she loved him, smiling as his deep and sensual voice returned her affections. His mouth was soothing against hers as they continued to kiss lazily, his hands gently tugging his shirt away from her hot skin, flinging it away without leaving her mouth, his hands rubbing up the silky skin of her back.

  Maka sighed, his warm breath tickling her as his tongue swirled around the sensitive skin behind her ear, shivers racing down her spine. Slow and lazy kisses raw with affection were her favorite, she decided. 

  Soul continued to hold her close, relishing the soft skin that she allowed him to touch so freely, inhaling her sweet scent with every kiss, every caress, every breath. His nose nudged her chin up so that he could place a kiss upon her wildly beating pulse, her skin silky and hot beneath his lips. 

  Neither were sure how much time passed as they embraced, nor did they care, Maka leaning back every so often to brush his bangs out of his eyes and place a sweet kiss upon the bridge of his nose. She would giggle at his small grin, before allowing his tongue to return to her collarbones. It didn't take long for her to feel him stirring beneath her again, hard and hot as touches began to have more intent and purpose behind them.

   "Soul," she breathed as his lips placed soft kisses along her neck. "Again? Already?" She giggled as he hummed a response, tipping her back onto the mattress before covering her with his body, his eyes glinting above her as he smirked down at her.

  He caressed her thighs, her hands tugging on his shoulders, pulling him against her abruptly, drowning in the soft gasp crashing against his chest. His teeth nipped at her jaw, chuckling as her hand wrapped around his tie again, yanking him up to her mouth for a proper kiss. "You and your nerdy fetishes," he growled against her lips.

 

 

 

 


	2. Dream Weaver

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

   He was never going to get a decent night's sleep again. Soul acknowledged this- understood it well enough, but refused to accept it. He absolutely refused to accept the fact that his body had betrayed him yet again.

  Soul sat at the kitchen table, head dropping dangerously close to his bowl of cereal before snapping his head up with a start. Blood red eyes blinked blearily at the sunlight apathetically pouring in through the living room window, long beams stretching across the floor and edging dangerously close to his shadowed stupor. Soul fought the ridiculous urge to hiss at it before picking up his spoon and shoving the marshmallow cereal into his mouth.

  He was exhausted and had no one to blame but himself. Not exactly true, he thought with a pouty huff. It was her fault a little. She and those damn legs of hers. And that perfect ass. And those lips. Couldn't forget that tongue-

  Ugh.

  He cursed himself and his raging libido, blaming it and his lack of control for the hellish week he'd been having. Night after night, no matter what he did or how he tried to fight it, Soul found himself having the same damn dream, like a broken record skipping repeatedly in his head. It seemed like last night was no exception, either; the only difference being that he'd changed positions and had been allowed to thrust from behind like the animal that he was.

  Not that he'd complain, really. The gloriously naughty dream he'd been having always ended well, and if not for the sticky mess he always found himself in upon regaining consciousness he'd have no complaints at all. That, and the fact that the star of his evening escapades had made him a little uncomfortable in the beginning, to say the least; it was disturbing how it didn't bother him that much at all anymore.

  So much for being an amazingly cool death scythe; especially one who wasn't drooling after his meister like some weird perverted horndog.

  Maka. WHY did his meister have to turn his blood into lava? When exactly did she go from the gangly and bossy little bookworm with little to no sex appeal to the sexy shapely star of his wet dreams? 

  And speaking of which, being seventeen and all, why was he even still having them? Soul had thought that they'd vanished with puberty a few years ago. No such luck, he supposed; not when his mind fuck-fests were so realistic that he could practically feel her skin against his; could _feel_  her clenching around him as she came.

  He groaned, his head hitting the table with a dull thud, closing his eyes as he waited for Maka to emerge from her room so they could go the fuck to school, where he could actually try to _not_  fall asleep for once. They'd be graduating this year, thankfully. He was so over all of this shit.

  He sighed, picking up his dishes and rinsing them in the sink. Rustling and footsteps alerted him to his roommate's presence, and he turned around slowly, only to fight the urge to groan at the sight of his meister (and dream fuck buddy, apparently) buttoning up the front of her shirt, looking rather disheveled and hectic as she scrambled about, slamming into a chair at the kitchen table, then bending over in half to buckle her boots.

  Soul shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning against the counter as he fought back a yawn. He instead took the time to study his meister from afar while she was preoccupied. He noted, with a frown of concern, that she had bags under her eyes. She didn't look like she'd slept all that well. Come to think of it, she wouldn't even glance his way. Was she mad at him for some stupid reason?

  She dragged a comb through her hair rather painfully, making even Soul wince at the viscious tugs and jerks to her scalp. Instead of her trademark pigtails, she decided to leave it down, brushing the ashen locks over her shoulder as she stood, throwing her arms into the sleeves of her coat, her eyes darting to him once again before hurriedly looking away.

  Alright, that was it. Something was definitely up with her, and the last thing that they needed were secrets between them; Soul had seen firsthand just how detrimental secrets between meisters and weapons could be to partnerships. His frown deepened into a scowl as she did it again- what was going on with her? "Yo- Maka!"

  She froze, her hand on the doorknob, refusing to turn around and face him. Soul felt his frustration beginning to eat away at him, losing his temper enough to cross the room and stand directly behind her. Her shoulders were tense, her hand gripping the doorknob rather tightly.

  He sighed, trying to sound nonchalant enough for her to calm the fuck down. He placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her around; they didn't have time for this, and weren't they too old for this shit?

  She was blushing. His meister- his tough as nails, annoyingly stubborn, persistently studious, deceptively feminine meister was _blushing_?!? Oh, this was too good.

  He leaned in a little closer, smirking at her obvious discomfort. "What's up with you?" He jerked his head toward the counter. "You forgot your notes."

  She held her head high as she skirted around him, grabbing her notebook in a quick frenzy, calling over her shoulder that they needed to hurry and not even waiting for a response as her boots thudded down the hall. 

  A single sheet of paper had fluttered to the ground, Soul groaning in irritation at the inconvenience; seriously? He was too tired for this, dammit!

  Snatching it up with a huff and a scowl, he checked his pocket one last time for his keys, pulling the door shut with a yawn. His eyes glanced down at the paper briefly, widening in horror at his partner's perfect penmanship:

   _ **Homework Assignment:**_

    _Soul Perception exercise_

_Prod the subconscious soul to strengthen your perception rate._

 

  Oh shit.

  Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit!

  Soul gulped, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. Where did all of the oxygen on Earth go? Damn. Well, guess it was all over now. They'd had a good run, right? She was gonna kill him. Once she got her shit together and could actually bring herself to look at him again, her heaviest book was going to collide with the softest spot on his skull, and he'd be six feet under, granted that Stein didn't get ahold of his corpse and turn him into a zombie like Sid.

  Oh, fuck. 

 

 

  Denial. He'd stick to that shit like a whore to a dirty politician. If he could just keep his cool (he had a pretty good poker face, after all), he _might_  be able to pull it off. It'd all blow over, and maybe when this had ended he'd be able to laugh about it.

  Yeah, in about a hundred years. He hunched in his seat next to her in the classroom, daring to sneak glances at her out of the corner of his eye. She was listening rather intently as Stein began to re-brief them on their assignments, Soul sitting up just the tiniest bit to pay attention.

  Stein seemed to be speaking in his general direction, stating that he was hoping that both meisters and weapons were strengthening their resonance rates, for a strong resonance was the foundation for a strong partnership and crucial for durable attacks. They should be good enough, this far along into their educations, to practically resonate in their sleep!

  Soul scowled at the gleam in Stein's eye as he made brief eye contact with the young death scythe, turning away to continue addressing the class, droning on about something else as Soul found himself zoning out once more.

  How was he going to explain to his meister that what she saw was merely a fluke? That if she'd been passing by his little dreamland on any other night, it'd be nothing but stupid-

  Wait.

  He almost sat up ramrod straight, a revelation lighting up his normally bored expression. Wait a sec- it took TWO to resonate. Did that mean that she- did she want- was she having? They'd resonated last night? She was an active participant, not just an observer?

  Oh, fuck.

  He thought that she was just pokin' around in his sunconscious (which he would normally be mad about, if not for the embarrassing sex with her part), not holding a resonance with him!

  He tried to sneak a glance at her again, but caught her doing the same, breaking eye contact with a quick breath and a small blush as the bell rang around them. Soul felt like his entire body had been filled with hot cement, his eyes on his meister as she hurriedly gathered her things, his heart beating wildly in his chest, gulping in deep breaths as she and Tsubaki headed out the door without him. 

  What. The. Fuck.

  Black Star clapped him on the shoulder, jostling him and shaking him from his stupor. "Lunch time, weakling! This God'll letcha buy him some fries to make up for you skippin' out on basketball the other night! Call it your penance!"

  Soul mumbled a 'whatever,' following him rather numbly, trying to shove thoughts of Maka aside; Maka and her lips, Maka and her legs wrapped around his waist, Maka bent over the piano and gasping out his name over and over.

 

 

 

 

 

  They ate dinner that night in awkward silence, Soul trying hard not to stare at her mouth and Maka fighting to keep a blush from her face for more than thirty damn seconds. After pushing food around her plate, she mumbled that she had a lot of homework to do, grimaced a little at her poor choice of words, then quickly washed her dishes before heading to the blessed sanctuary of her room, where she could scold and berate herself in peace.

  She closed the door with a sigh of relief, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back to the bed, furiously trying to find a way to mend her burning bridge. She could practically smell the smoke of her smoldering mistake, cursing herself for her stupidity last night. She'd had NO right to probe him for a resonance last night; hadn't really expected him to respond at all. Maka had only tried to connect one-sided, just trying to get a feel for it with a gentle practice, never dreaming in a million years that her lazy partner would be unknowingly willing, silently waiting to fill the gap while he slumbered in the solitude of his bed.

  Curiosity had eaten away at her, wondering why he was half-way toward a resonance in his sleep. Stein's instructions about helping her to strengthen her soul perception had flashed to the front of mind as she chewed on her bottom lip; well, technically it WAS homework... Besides, he was probably dreaming about some stupid jazz concert anyway. What harm could it be to just sneak a peek?

  She'd had no intentions of letting his hands roam her body, letting his lips coax her into bending to his will, allowing herself to drown in his breathy moans and growls of pleasure. It had all just happened so fast!

  Maka buried her face in her hands- why did she let it go that far? Why had she allowed herself to fall headfirst into that lusty dream resonance, let him pull her under and envelop her in that sexual fog?

  Because she'd needed him to. She'd been harboring such a strong desire for Soul that she couldn't find it in her to deny her soul that which she so desperately craved; to feel him wrap himself around her and expose his feelings to her. Even if he didn't mean it, even if it was only during the throes of passion in his dreams, even if it was only their souls instead of their bodies locked together, she ached to feel wanted in the same way that she wanted him. She felt a thirst for him down to her bones, was greedy last night as she felt her head hang in shame. 

  Her feelings for Soul were so much more that a shallow lust-filled groping session. Maka had been clinging to a ridiculous hope that maybe, just maybe, after everything with Asura had been dealt with and she no longer had an excuse, she could finally open up for once and tell her best friend and partner that she cared for him more than anyone in this entire world. She could bare herself before him, consequences be damned, and find the courage to say that no matter what his answer was, she felt that he deserved to know just how much he meant to her; that the thought of being without him made her blood clot icily in her veins and her heart lodge into her throat, that the thought of existing without him in her life made her want to drown in despair.

  Would it be alright if she risked everything that they had worked for just for the chance to hear that maybe, just maybe he felt the same way that she did? Was there even a time, even in the tiniest speck, that he'd felt the same about her?

  Maka snorted at the very idea. Yeah, right- as if Soul could feel that way about a flat-chested little nerd brained know-it-all. She sniffled, disgusted with herself on a whole new level to find that on top of it all, she was crying, too. Great.

  And then, she felt it. 

  Maka turned toward her closed bedroom door, her woes clearing from the gloomy smog in her mind to focus on the pull at her wavelength. Was that-?

  Soul was trying to resonate with her. Right now. Her breath caught in her throat. Should she? Would it be the right thing to do? What if-?

  Maka squeezed her eyes shut, summoning all of her courage to extend her side of the link out to him, grasping onto it and plummeting down, down into the swirling, wispy space of their shared souls.

 

 

 

 

 

  Maka blinked, eyes adjusting to the ever present darkness that always came with the familiar setting. Emerald eyes scanned the hauntingly dim space lit by candlelight; the black room was the embodiment of her weapon's soul, and she felt more than heard the heels of her black dress shoes click against the black and white checkerboard tile beneath her feet. Her brow furrowed in apprehension and confusion at the absence of her roommate, her gaze resting first upon the empty piano bench, then the unoccupied chair next to the gramophone, which was eerily silent. 

  She was so confused. Why call out for her if he had no intention of even showing? 

  "Impatient much?"

  Maka whirled around, Soul finally emerging from behind heavy velvet drapery, his mouth turned up in a small smirk of pleasure at having been able to catch her slightly off guard for once. He adjusted his tie with one hand as he strolled towards the piano. The sharp angles of his jaw seemed that much more harsh in the shadowed candlelight as he raised the fallboard, long fingers idly pressing and testing ivory keys.

  Maka swallowed audibly, forcing her nerves away from her tight throat. Soul seemed pleased and satisfied that the instrument in front of him was in tune, and she couldn't seem to quell the butterflies in her stomach as she watched the lithe muscles in Soul's back move as he sat down upon the bench, spine straightening up into the proper posture as his hands began to conjure up that hauntingly beautiful piece that he'd played for her once before.

  The melody was comforting and wrapped itself around her; images of the coffee shop where Soul had borrowed the empty piano to play her a piece of music that had accurately described his twisted soul, trying to warn her of exactly what she was getting herself into by partnering up with him flashed before her as she closed her eyes, basking in his talent and passion before dealing with the inevitable conversation hanging heavily upon her.

  She opened her eyes with a small sigh of resignation, slowly approaching his back, noticing how effortlessly his hands danced across the cool ivory beneath them. He was so good with his hands. Her gloved fingers brushed against the ebony sheen of her dress, wanting to feel the sturdy wool fabric of his pinstriped suit underneath her fingertips instead.

  _Oops- could her hear that?_ A blush warned her cheeks as she bit back a squeak of embarrassment.  _Of course he could- they were resonating right now. Their souls were connected as one at the moment._ She fought the urge to slap a palm over her face and groan at her idiocy. Was she losing her mind? He was turning her into a moron without any effort on his part. Maka felt her stomach clench in trepidation as the music slowed to a stop, the tightness unbearable as Soul took a deep breath.

   "Maka," his deep voice echoed slightly in the room, his hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Not a good sign. "About last night..."

  She swallowed, anxiously smothering her own regrets at what she'd done, steeling herself for his own stinging words that would slice into her at any moment. They'd had a good run, she supposed as she lowered her gaze to the shining tile, waiting for her sentence. 

   "I'm not sorry."

  Maka's eyes widened at his statement before snapping back up to see Soul peering at her over his shoulder. She was frozen temporarily with shock as he swung his long legs around to face her, simmering flaming eyes boring into her very soul, which lay raw and exposed before him. He then did something that she'd _never_ thought he'd do: he smiled, a genuine warm smile as his hand reached for her, pulling her to stand between his knees. Soul gazed up at her, his hands resting upon her hips as her hands gripped his strong shoulders.

  He confirmed that yes, she _did_  hear him right, and no, she wasn't crazy. Maka brushed his unruly hair out of his scarlet eyes as their combined souls decided to lay it all out in the open, to reveal themselves once and for all, to quit dancing around the subject and cease hiding things that they both knew existed.

  Soul pulled her into his lap, her dress bunching up around her knees as her legs straddled him, his lips brushing against hers as he murmured softly; could she feel it? Did she understand just how much he wanted her? Not just her body- although it was enough to drive him insane. Could she see that part of him that he'd fought to keep hidden from her for so long; his fierce possessiveness of her, his adoration and undying devotion, his pledge of loyalty to her, his promise that if she'd be his he'd spend the rest of his life proving to her that he was nothing like her father, that she could trust him always and that he needed her just as much as she needed him.

  He stifled a yelp of surprise as Maka flung her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, her soul caressing his in a heady embrace. His broad palm rested heavily upon her back, pushing her against him as he tilted his head and slanted his mouth against hers. Things were heating up at an alarming pace, but it was difficult to think coherently when she wiggled in his lap like that.

  Maka's hands cupped his face as Soul's lips trailed kisses along her jaw, gasping in surprise as he stood suddenly, kicking the piano bench away with a loud clatter as he straightened to full height, turning around sharply, his fingers slamming the fall board down a scant second before he set her upon the glossy ebony wood.

  His tongue traced her bottom lip with a guttural growl as her feelings washed over him, warm and bright, echoing within him. His knees shook at the intense desires that flooded him, one hand gripping the instrument to steady himself as her hands gripped his waist.

  _Could he see everything?_

  He hummed a response as she sucked at the skin resting over his pulse point, her tongue mapping out a route that made him impatient as he wound his fingers in her hair, tugging her head back to allow him to attach his lips to hers again, heedless to everything but her and the brilliance of her soul as she poured herself into him languidly.

  Could he feel her love, her trepidation, her willingness to jump into the unknown, all for a chance that this could be the best thing to happen to them? Would he stay, knowing that things could be difficult at times, that there would be hurdles to jump and problems to solve? She knew that she could be insecure and demanding, but was it a price he was willing to pay?

  Soul broke their kiss, both gasping for air as he leaned his forehead against hers, her eyes closed as she waited for his answer, her silent pleas and prayers hanging upon his decision.

  His thumb stroked her bottom lip, his breath washing over her with his small breathless chuckle, "You know, for a nerd-brain- you sure do ask dumb questions sometimes...and you're supposed to be the smart one." Her eyes shot open as his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, his words positively branding her with their scalding possessiveness. "You're mine, and don't ever question that."

  There was nothing more to say. He loved her, she loved him, and it was about damn time that they both knew. His lips were hungry as he placed open mouthed kisses along her neck, his tongue lathing the smooth skin of her soft shoulder. Soul's hand began to slide the inky black, silky texture of her dress up one of her mile-long legs, his hands desperate for skin-to-skin contact, his ears delighting in the soft moans purring into his mouth as he kissed her eagerly, his tongue enraptured with the taste of her as he continued his assault upon her senses.

  She tilted her head back as Soul's teeth nibbled at her skin, hands winding through his hair possessively as long slender fingers trailed across her thigh. He shuddered at the feel of lace beneath his fingertips, his kisses turning carnal against the column of her throat; her back arching as she released frosted strands in order to grip the shadowed piano behind her, lifting her hips just enough to allow the black lacy material to be slid down her shivering thighs, over her knees and down her calves. She watched her partner kneel before her to place a kiss upon the tops of her feet as the scrap of fabric was tossed over his shoulder. 

  Soul's heated gaze met hers, sharp teeth peeking through the smirk turning up the corners of his mouth as he slid up her body, wrapping her legs around his waist loosely as he grazed the pad of his thumb against her wet heat. She cried out, her legs squeezing his waist as her arms wrapped around his neck to bring his lips to hers for another mind fogging kiss.

  "Soul," she gasped against his mouth, a gloved hand splaying up into his hair once more, tugging and tilting his head to the side in order to run her tongue upon the skin just above the crimson collar of his dress shirt. He moaned lightly, his fingers stroking slick, wet heat while her teeth grazed his jaw, his eyes closing in bliss as her hand disentangled itself from the snowy locks to trail down his chest, dance around his abdomen before letting one finger tease the hardened flesh straining against his zipper. 

  Something snapped- the pace up until now seeming to have crawled by at a torturous rate. Maka's mouth was desperate as she yanked his mouth to hers, stealing the breath right out of him as she stroked the hard flesh resting against the wool pinstriped fabric rubbing against her sensitive thighs.

  Soul moaned into her mouth as the pad of his thumb brushed against her clit. She arched her back, leaning into the touch that was stripping her of her sanity, her hands wrestling open the button of his dress slacks, pulling down the zipper quickly. Nimble as they were, her fingers couldn't seem to get the buttons of his jacket through the holes fast enough, couldn't shove it off of his shoulders any more quickly, couldn't pull his crimson dress shirt out of the way quick enough, and she couldn't pull down the black boxers (with white music notes on them, how cute!) to make way for her eager hand nearly as fast as she wanted. 

  He hissed as she wrapped her fingers around him at last, his breath hot against her cheek. "Fuck, Maka-" he rasped, his fingers wrecking havoc on her concentration as she began to grind against his hand. "Can we-?"

  Maka nodded furiously and whimpered against his neck, wrapping her arms around him tightly as he slid into her with a deliriously slow thrust, his hands gripping her thighs, her back arching as he growled against her forehead. She whimpered his name as he withdrew slowly once more, returning to her with more force than before, hearing him choke back a garbled whine at the feel of her clenching him so tightly. She pressed her fingertips into the flexing muscles beneath her palms in an attempt to keep him as close to her as possible. His soul was so warm and practically vibrating against hers as they continued their erotic dance.

  A strong arm wrapped around her waist to support her as he pounded into her again and again, his breath heavy as his moans met hers with every thrust, her voice only seeming to remember how to form the breathy sounds of his name. Soul's fingers left her thigh, leaning back enough to snake his way between their bodies to press against her clit, his voice sending shivers down her spine as he urged her to come for him, begged her to let him make her feel good, he loved watching her lose herself to him. This was so much better than last night because now he could see her face.

  She was so close, could feel the coil in her abdomen, threatening to spring loose and snap at any moment. Maka could feel her soul writhing against his own so forcefully that it made her head spin. It was so intense and all consuming that she cried out as she moved her hips as much as she could. Her body went rigid as a molten heat rolled over her hips, her body spasming around him in ecstasy, wave after wave wracking her entire being, Soul shouting against her shoulder as he thrust into her with wildly reckless abandon, shuddering and rocking as he thrust as deeply as he could, both of them hovering over the brink of insanity as their pleasure slowly ebbed, both fighting to remember to breathe.

  Maka rubbed her cheek against the silky smooth fabric of his dress shirt, sighing contentedly as Soul's hands caressed her back tenderly, turning his head to place a slow kiss in her hair. He chuckled as he pulled back to gaze upon her, her eyes cast down and cheeks bright with a blush. He tilted her chin up, smiling lovingly at her as he kissed her once more, their resonance fading slowly, the room slowly growing more and more dim.

 

 

 

 Maka opened her eyes, trying hard to catch her breath and failing miserably.

  What had they-?

  Did that just-?

  Now what?

  She stood on shaky legs, trying to ignore the wetness between her thighs while eyeing her closed door warily. Before she could even collect her scattered thoughts into some small semblance of order, a light tapping sounded moments later, followed by Soul's somewhat timid calling of her name. 

  She pulled the door wide, face to face with her breathless weapon, his eyes a delectable shade of wine as he drank in her flushed face. "Hey," he muttered somewhat awkwardly. "Can I- **WHOA** -!"

  Maka fisted her hand into the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him across the threshold and into her arms before slamming her door shut for the night.

 


	3. Father Figure

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

  She was exhausted. It was the end of the semester and she'd been grading exams with Stein almost all day, on the verge of finishing for the night when they'd decided to get a head start on the future lesson plans to get them out of the way now, both admitting with sighs of resignation that it would be easier in the long run to be prepared. 

  Maka sighed, grumbling as she flung her hair over her shoulder with a toss of her head, wincing at her stiff muscles as she rubbed her shoulder with ferocity. Being hunched over a desk hour after hour was slowly killing her and turning her into a hunchback. Glancing at her watch, she realized that she'd missed bath and story time by a good hour, and that her daughter must surely be in bed by now.

   ' _She'd better be,'_ Maka groused in irritation as she tried her best not to jingle her keys too loudly, turning around to close the door behind her softly with a click once over the threshold. She kicked off her shoes and bent to place them against the wall, sighing with relief as she wiggled her toes. She was starting to long for the days of surprisingly comfortable combat boots instead of the sensible yet professional heels that she donned most days.

  Maka paused at the sight before her as she turned around, green eyes blinking a few times to clear her cloudy vision hazed over with fatigue as she approached the couch, her lips twitching before curling up into a soft smile.

  Soul was fast asleep on his back, their two year old daughter sprawled out against his chest, one hand looking so gigantic against her small back, holding her against him protectively as his chest rose and fell with his deep and peaceful breathing. His other arm was dangling off the couch, one of her fairy tale story books open on the floor.

  Maka fought back the cooing "Aww!" trying to claw its way out of her chest as she set her bags down in the closest chair, tucking her hair behind her ear as she knelt down to retrieve the book, her eyes glancing back to her snoozing family as she set the literature (a gift from her father, of all people) upon the coffee table, tidying up the small littering of stuffed animals also strewn about the carpet.

  With practiced ease, she lifted her daughter into her arms, not at all surprised that Soul continued to sleep on undisturbed, knowing that he was just as tired as she was, seeing as how he'd been the one working late the week before. Besides, their child happened to be an adorable little ball of energy who could give even Black*Star a run for his money. She required constant supervision, and it tended to drain one's already depleting reserve.

  After placing her daughter in her toddler bed and giving her a soft kiss once she'd tucked the blankets around her little frame, she gently closed the door and turned off the hallway light before creeping back into the living room, smiling once more at her handsome weapon, still passed out on the couch, his white hair a beautiful contrast against the furniture.

  Maka unbuttoned the top few buttons on her blouse before pulling it free from her high-waisted pencil skirt, hiking the material up her thighs before gingerly straddling her husband's hips. He was warm and unguarded beneath her as she lovingly swept his bangs back from his forehead, fingertips trailing along his chest, feeling the rough scar tissue under the thin fabric of his favorite worn out t-shirt, following the line of his scar and stifling a giggle at the way his eyebrow twitched in his sleep.

  They'd both been working a lot lately, Soul being called away on an occasional mission or two and Maka preparing for the exams with Stein. Evenings had been ending with sighs of relief after putting their daughter to bed, both of them doing nothing more than sleeping in their own bed for the past two weeks, too exhausted to do anything more than cuddle. 

  Maka wasn't ashamed in the slightest to admit that she missed the intimacy between she and Soul. Her husband's loving caresses and soft kisses were nice and all, but she wanted the touch that only he could give, needed the pleasure that was for her alone, needed to show him just how much she loved and appreciated him while showering him with gratitude at just how amazing he was with their child.

  Maka's fingers undid his belt, her stomach fluttering with butterflies in anticipation as she tugged his zipper down, the sound of a small grunt coming from him causing heat to begin spreading between her thighs, reaching out with long tendrils to extend the warmth to her tingling extremities as well. 

  He was still asleep, but the corner of his lips twitched, and Maka bit her lip as she felt him stirring a little, his body aware of what was happening, even if his brain was slow to catch up. He grunted again, one of his eyebrows twitching as his hips jerked beneath her slightly against his will. Judging by the hardness beginning to press against her, his body was more than willing to participate, whether he was conscious or not.

  Undeterred, Maka kept up her slow and tender assault, pressing her lips against his chiseled jaw, her hands unbuttoning the dark denim and pulling back his jeans, very slowly and meticulously easing him through the flap in his boxers, pushing her own underwear to the side as she lined him up with her entrance, lifting up enough to let him slowly enter her, sinking down onto his hard length with incredible ease.

  Soul came to with a gasp and a deep moan, his vermillion eyes hazy with sleep and glazed with drowsy lust as he blinked at the ceiling, tilting his head to the side slightly at the sensation of something hot and wet drawing circles along his throat, stretching a little with a pleasured sigh as he tried to process what was happening.

  He caught a flash of ash blonde to his right, smiling at the familiar weight of his strong, yet tiny little meister straddling him, murmuring her name and running his fingers through her hair as she placed kisses along his jaw, acknowledging his conscious state at last with a thorough and eager kiss.

  Maka sat up, smiling down at him coyly as his hands finally settled on her hips, guiding her into long, slow, agonizingly perfect strokes, his grip firm as he watched his wife arch her back, pressing her small hands firmly against his chest for added leverage.

  One of his hands came to rest upon her thigh as she whispered his name, biting her lip and whimpering as he thrust up into her, his own breath coming out in small gasps mingled with low grunts. Gods, he's missed her. He's missed the sounds that she makes, noises reserved for him alone, the way her fingers feather down to his abdomen and tease the hot skin under the hem of his shirt, fluttering against the muscle as she fights to keep quiet, riding him into sweet oblivion as she gazes down at him, her love and desire for him swirling and sparkling at him in those big green eyes. He could drown in those beautiful eyes, he decides as his other hand leaves her waist to reach up and cradle the back of her head, pulling her to him for a much needed kiss.

  She gasped into his mouth, loving the feeling of him so hard and hot within her, drowning in pleasure that she's been yearning for, mumbling against his lips about how she'd thought about him all day, and that he feels so good.

  Soul groaned, wrapping his arms around her as she quickened her pace, his hips thrusting up to meet her with more force, his tongue sinking into the sweet depths of her mouth to caress hers before breaking apart to urge her on. His chest rumbled beneath her hands as his deep voice echoed softly in her ear, his breath hot and incredibly arousing as he tells her that she's so incredibly beautiful, that she's so tight, that he's missed her so much.

  Maka swiveled her hips, gasping against his throat as he hit a spot deep inside of her just right, tilting her hips to get that added pressure against her clit, panting and pleading against his tan skin to not stop, begging him to keep going, whimpering that she's so close, that she _needs_ to come...

  Soul seemed to agree as he continued to whisper gentle encouragements to her, his hands firm against her back. The heat emanating from him was branding her skin through her clothes and igniting her, his deep and gravelly voice was answering her soft moans with growls and grunts of his own.

  Finally she clenched around him, her teeth latching onto his neck to muffle her moan of his name as tremors wracked her slender frame blissfully, her release draining her of any coherent thoughts or words. Her thighs trembled around his hips as her molten heat continued to pull him even deeper (if that was even possible), gripping him so unbelievably tight with wet, quivering muscles that it made it almost impossible for him to thrust (let alone move), as his own orgasm rocked his body and soul, his teeth clenched to stifle his own groan as he held her to him tightly.

  Maka released his skin from her demanding lips at last as she panted, her heart pounding as she felt the tension leaving her frame, Soul's arms releasing their hold slightly as his hands caressed her back. She sighed, sated and content as she caught her breath.

  Soul planted a kiss against the top of her head, yawning and giving a small stretch. "What time is it?" His voice was still groggy with sleep, but his eyes were clear.

  Maka kissed his chest, sitting up and letting him slip out of her, giggling a little at the high pitched noise that escaped his throat, never tiring of how cute he looked, all disgruntled as he frowned at her moving away from him. She leaned back down and gave him a quick kiss. "A little after nine."

  He groaned before grumbling about how he was turning into an old man, a corner of his mouth turning up into an affectionate little smirk as he adjusted himself back into his jeans, watching his beautiful wife tug her skirt back down, agreeing with him in his sentiment, wondering if it was too soon to get a divorce and trade him in for a younger model.

  Soul chuckled. "Yeah, right." He tugged on her wrist, smiling at the small squeak that escaped her as she fell back against him, wrapping his arms around her and giving her slender frame a small squeeze. "You'll never get rid of me. You want me for my mad parenting skills."

  She smiled into his chest, squeezing him back just as much, inhaling the subtle and familiar scent of his cologne as he ran his fingers through her hair, their legs tangled together, agreeing with him whole-heartedly.

 

 

 

  The next morning, the sight of him standing at the stove with their pajama-clad daughter balanced on his hip made her chest constrict. His deep voice chuckled at the small excited squeal she gave her father, giggling excitingly as he poured a small pancake just the right size for her little hands, the sound of him laughing making Maka's muscles clench and heat to pool between her thighs. It was the sweet image of him pressing a gentle kiss against her little forehead and asking "Want to help Daddy flip the next one, angel?" that finally did the meister in, making her heart beat like crazy and her extremities tingle with fierce warmth and desire again.

  Spirit had come to pick his granddaughter up for some early Saturday afternoon fun at the park about an hour later.

  The door had barely closed behind them before Soul yelped a "Holy shit!" at Maka tackling him to the floor in her haste to get him inside of her again as quickly as possible.

 

 


	4. Study Buddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soul isn't exactly the best student, but if this is how he and his meister are going to study from now on, he might just crack open a book more often.

 

 

  "This is dumb."

  Maka lifted her gaze from her study guide and gave her weapon a quizzical frown with the faint arch of an eyebrow. "Why? _You_ were the one who suggested this to begin with."

  Soul huffed. "When I suggested a strip game to help me study, I meant YOU!" He crossed his arms over his naked chest, his balloon of hope in seeing his girlfriend's soft, pale flesh deflating more and more with each passing minute. He began to curse his stupidity for not clarifying the rules with her in the beginning, only half paying attention to her endless droning as his mind began to wander and gravitate toward sordid little scenarios that were obviously never going to happen.

  Instead, Soul found himself in a quid-pro-quo situation, so far from his original intentions that it would've been laughable in another life. Every time he answered a question incorrectly, his girlfriend got to pick which article of clothing was removed from HIM, and now here he sat: shirtless, belt-less, and with no socks on, slumped in his desk chair and grumbling up at his girlfriend, who had cleaned up his cluttered desktop and seated herself upon the cleared surface.

  "I've stripped!"

  Soul's disbelieving stare and pouting frown caused Maka to glance down and check her state of undress, just to be sure that she was correct in her statement. She was missing a few pieces of clothing, so what was he complaining about?

  Soul groaned and sunk down into his desk chair even further. "Ooooh, a sweater vest AND a tie? SCORE!" He crossed his arms over his bare chest as he pouted.

  "No need for sarcasm, you sore loser," she grumbled while flipping a page in her stapled study guide and ignoring his groan of protest. "It's not my fault you didn't answer the last two questions right!" She took a pencil from behind her ear and marked something upon the paper, crossing her legs rather daintily and sitting up straight to face him once more.

  All that was missing was a smart pair of glasses, and she'd complete the book-loving librarian ensemble for one of his fantasies.

  Or a teacher. He could get into that.

  Fuck his life.

  Why did he think this would go any other way than the direction it had? Soul sighed and grumbled about the unfairness of it all, his eyes roving up long, toned, pale and bare legs appreciatively before glaring at her stupid skirt (that was still fucking on), his gaze taking in her white buttoned top, fighting the urge to stick his tongue out at it before seeing her black coat in a pile beside her; it had been unbuttoned and peeled off over ten minutes ago. It was a start, but nowhere near where he desired this situation heading.

  Soul had been hoping that a little spontaneity could trigger an evening full of naked meister and weapon fun to help take the stress of the upcoming exams off of Maka's mind a bit. She'd been wound up tighter than usual lately, leaving her nights reserved for studying, leaving him lonely and Soul couldn't take much more of it. If she kept this up she'd make herself sick. He'd anticipated himself breezing through enough of these lame questions correctly to supply him with the view of a lifetime, but had instead been stumped multiple times by her damn book-worm questions that probably weren't even on the stupid exams.

  He was just beginning to wonder if she'd asked him super difficult questions intentionally when her voice cut through his plans to mutiny.

  "True or false: Water can amplify a wavelength." She gazed at him expectantly, large green eyes blinking while giving him time to think, patiently waiting for him to answer her.

  Fuck, her eyes were pretty.

  Soul shook his head slightly. Dammit, keep it together! Focus! Alright, he knew this answer... Black*Star had mentioned it during one of his pointless rantings about his "endless godly abilities..."

  Oh, fuck it. He had a 50/50 shot.

  "True?"

  Maka only blinked. "Are you asking me or is that your final answer?"

  Soul tilted his head slightly and sighed as he frowned at her. "Final answer, nerd-brain."

  Maka lightly shoved at his shoulder with her foot, huffing in mock irritation before allowing a small smile and announcing that he was correct. Small and sturdy hands moved slowly, nimble fingers undoing tiny buttons at a torturously crawling pace, revealing creamy skin inch by inch.

  Soul momentarily went slack jawed as his eyes took in the sight of his topless meister before him, sitting up straight to sit on the edge of his seat and coming to the realization that doing so put him at just the right height to be able to lean forward and place a kiss upon the soft, pale flesh just below the front clasp of her bra-

  Soul hadn't realized that he'd been leaning closer until Maka's foot on his shoulder reminded him that they were still studying with a firm push and a slow coy shake of her head, a smug and playful little smirk tilting up a corner of her lips. He groaned but obeyed, sitting back in his desk chair and trying desperately to focus on the next question. He could still turn this around. All he had to do was pay attention and think about the question at hand, and not wonder if the panties under her skirt matched her bra-

  "Soul?"

  Red eyes glazed over with lascivious thoughts blinked and shot up to her clear emerald gaze, his throat clearing somewhat nervously. "Huh?"

  Maka sighed impatiently at her boyfriend's lack of focus. "Are you even serious about this? Because if you're not learning anything from this, we're stopping-"

  "I _am_!" He adamantly protested. Her doubtful frown wasn't helping his case any. Soul tugged on the hem of her skirt with a pleading look in his eyes. "Maakaaa! Come on- gimme a break! I'm doin' my best! It's just kinda hard to focus-"

  "Then let's stop!" Maka made to get off of the desk, but Soul leaned forward in his chair, pressing his hands to her knees in an effort to stop her. She tilted her head at him questioningly.

  "I'm sorry! I'll try harder! Just- let's keep going." His thumbs gently caressed her soft skin as he gazed up at her. He prayed that she wouldn't leave. This was the closest he'd been to being intimate with her in over a week. He missed her, and if this was the only way to worm his way into being with her, then so be it. He would answer as many questions as his slacker brain could handle.

  Maka frowned down at him, one eyebrow arching in question. His pleading face managed to convince, and with a sigh of resignation, she lifted the study guide back up to her face and asked him another question. She should just be grateful that he was even attempting to study for once. 

  A correct answer earned Soul his reward, and he couldn't contain the perverse giddiness in his crooked smirk as Maka unzipped the fabric around her waist and lifted her hips to shimmy out of her skirt, allowing her weapon to assist her in gliding it down over her long legs before giggling slightly at the way he tossed it to the floor without so much as a glance or care as to where it landed, his heated red eyes never leaving her body.

  Her panties DID match her bra.

  Cool.

  Maka's face softened as Soul leaned forward to place a tender kiss upon each knee, his long fingers smoothing up the backs of her calves, grazing her sensitive skin and hooking under her knees, pulling and encouraging her to sit on the very edge of his desk. His thumbs rubbed circles against her hips as his lips brushed against her upper torso, wedging his shoulders between her thighs.

  "Soul-?" Maka's breathless question was answered seconds later when he pulled her down and into his lap, his mouth attaching to hers to cut off her gasp of surprise at the feeling of him pressing against her, hard and hot. The rough denim of his jeans was such delicious friction, and Maka found herself devouring _his_ low and breathy gasp as she began to rock in her weapon's lap.

  One of his hands busied itself with releasing her of her pigtails, finally winding through her golden strands, his fingers caressing the nape of her neck tenderly as his other hand attached itself to her hip to move her to his liking. He licked his lips and hissed, thrusting up into her grinding gyrations, tilting his head back slightly as she traced his pulse point with her tongue. He swallowed thickly as she swiveled her hips just right, getting the perfect friction and drawing another groan out of his chest. He dipped his head briefly to capture her mouth once more, tilting his head back and nibbling on her plump bottom lip before sweeping his tongue inside.

  Maka hummed into the kiss in appreciation, feeling herself relax against him as her hands gripped his shoulders for leverage, her fingertips playing with the wiry corded muscle. By the feel of his languid pushing and pulling, the way he gently thrust up into her own downward grinding, he was in no hurry to rush things along. The heat from his body was soothing her, relieving her as his mouth continued to slant against hers.

  Pale lashes blinked slowly through a crimson hooded gaze as Maka broke the kiss to catch her breath, Soul wasting no time in brushing his lips across her clavicle before nibbling it gently with his sharp teeth. His hands trailed from her hips to her lower back, supporting her as she arched her back, exposing more flesh to his eager mouth. The edge of the desk dug into the center of her back, causing her to wince at the discomfort on her spine. Soul pulled her forward a bit, his hands soothing the ache in her spine, a pleasured sigh escaping parted lips as her eyes slid closed.

  Maka's breath hitched as she wound her fingers through his hair,  leaning down and tugging him back up to her lips as she began to grind against him once more. She was coming to the realization that it had been a little while since she'd allowed herself a "study break" with her weapon, and her frantic movements were dripping with her desperation to feel him again. She leaned back a bit, breaking their heated kiss to unbutton his jeans and feeling her body shudder at the sound of his dark chuckling. Maka huffed at the noise.

  Soul leaned back a bit to assist his meister, the tip of his tongue darting across his bottom lip briefly to moisten the flesh, noticing the way Maka stilled to watch the action. He offered her his smoldering smile; the one that meant that he was feeling particularly handsy, the one that always worked no matter where or what they were doing, and he wasn't disappointed as Maka quickly yanked on the zipper of his pants, not even bothering to rid him of the denim or his boxers as she eased him through the flap to expose him.

  He groaned as Maka wrapped her warm fingers around him, stroking him steadily as he pressed his forehead against her collarbone, his hands gripping her shoulders rather forcefully. 

  Maka's gaze was half lidded as she continued to stroke Soul languidly. He was so hard and hot, smooth and thick as she rubbed the vein just under the head, feeling a warm and heavy heat pool in her abdomen and her thighs to quiver with anticipation as he thrust into her hand and groaned her name.

  He couldn't wait any longer. Any thoughts on going slow fled his brain, hitching a ride south with his blood flow as he transformed his arm with a flash of bright blue light. Maka leaning back as she eyed the red and black blade warily, her gaze flickering from the steel to his heatedly determined gaze. One clean slice and another flash of light found her planting her feet on the floor long enough to allow Soul to remove the now ruined fabric of her panties. His hands were warm and gentle upon her hips as he guided her back down onto his lap. It took a bit of fumbling, but with a few smiles and sheepish laughs, they finally worked the tip of him inside of her, and all laughter ceased as she slowly sank down onto him.

  She gasped with a breathy cry as Soul groaned and grunted in bliss. Fuck, he'd missed this. His eyes slid shut and his mouth fell open as he threw his head back, breathing heavily and surrendering to Maka's undeniably incredible heat.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her against him as he tilted his head forward to bury his face into her neck, pressing his forehead against her jaw, his hands stroking her back with loving and gentle caresses as he stilled beneath her, savoring the closeness that he had been denied lately.

  Maka took the moment to collect herself as she stroked the back of Soul's head, her fingers tangling in the thick strands, her other hand wrapping around his shoulder. He was pressed so tightly against her, and his hands felt so soothing as he pressed kisses along the column of her throat. She hadn't realized just how badly she'd missed this with him until now. Soul always seemed to know just what she needed, even when she didn't. She supposed it had something to do with him knowing her soul-deep.

  Her hands tugged on his hair, pulling him back and away from her neck. Soul's velvety red gaze was unwavering as he tipped his head back, lightly observing the faint blush upon his meister's cheeks as Maka brushed back a few pieces of his bangs.

  Her ministrations were interrupted by the first nudging of his hips, her eyes closing and lips parting to release a soft and pleasured sigh. She pulled Soul closer again, scar tissue rubbing against her chest, her forehead resting against his as she began to rock with him. His hands were firm, yet soft on her back as he helped to move her, his teeth and tongue distracting her and causing her to falter as he kissed her repeatedly.

  Maka cupped his face and began to aggressively kiss him back, pressing down more firmly as his hands traveled lower, gripping her ass in his hands as she ground down more firmly, rocking harder and gasping into his mouth at the pleasure that jolted through her at the feel of him so hard and deep within her. She could feel him tremble slightly against her as he groaned against her mouth, his breath tickling her lips. His eyes had slid closed again and his eyebrows were drawn together as she picked up the pace just a bit more.

  Soul was fighting a losing battle as her muscles began to tighten around him. He stuttered her name as she arched her lower back, her walls beginning to tighten and pulse faintly, his hands gripping the firm flesh beneath his fingers that much tighter, hearing her voice grow louder as she cried his name, and then-

  There.

  Maka fell over the cliff as she cried out, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly as she rocked and rolled her hips down against him, sending Soul tumbling over the edge with a shout and a curse, his gasps and grunts filling the room as the hot, wet heat engulfing him gripped him and spasmed around him. His teeth grazed her shoulder as he fought to slow the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his hands releasing her ass to slowly travel up her back once more. 

  Their harsh breaths began to slow as exhaustion overtook the pair. As the pleasure ebbed, a low thrum of satisfaction began to replace the once frantic heat between them. 

  Maka slumped against Soul as she fought to catch her breath, licking her lips and sighing with relief. She giggled at the satisfied groan and puff of breath Soul released, causing a stirring in her belly as she noted how closely it resembled the sound he made when he consumed a tasty soul. His hands brushed the sweaty hair at the nape of her neck off and over a shoulder as he pressed a kiss to her head, wrapping his arms around her as she curled up against him even more.

  He grunted a little, adjusting her in his lap a bit, chuckling a little at her small whine of displeasure at all of his jostling. "Sorry," he rumbled at her. "My ass is fallin' asleep."

  Maka giggled as he snickered, his hands continuing their caressing as his arms encircled her a bit tighter, smoothing up her back as he soaked in how cuddly his meister always became after sex. His fingers came in contact with the only garment that still remained: her bra. He stood suddenly, smiling at her small cry of surprise and enjoying the way she wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly.

  "Ya know," he smirked as he took the two steps to his bed and gently deposited her onto the mattress, his knees causing it to dip, resting his weight on his hands as he hovered above her. "There's a few things I'm still confused about..." His smirk grew as he gently trailed his fingertips across her collarbone, fingers sliding underneath her bra strap to gently tug it down her strong and slender shoulder.

  The heated glint shining in his meister's eye made his pulse pound as she fluttered her eyelashes at him, her hands tracing his scar as she wrapped her long legs around his waist, using her knees to push his unbuttoned jeans down his slender hips. "Well," her breathless voice took on an edge of authority as Soul leaned down and placed kisses upon her chest, his fingers finding the front clasp of her bra and undoing it deftly. "Maybe you should do some extra credit." She gasped as his mouth engulfed one of her nipples, his talented tongue swirling and lapping. She arched and writhed beneath him, her breathy gasps and appeciative hums igniting his blood.

  Soul nipped his way down her torso, his tongue trailing heat in its wake as he circled her navel, smiling against her stomach at her indrawn breath. He paused in his descent long enough to flash her a toothy smile, his hands unwrapping her legs and draping them over his shoulders. "Yes, my meister."


	5. Behind Closed Doors

 

   His fingers tangled in her hair as he bit his lip and fought the urge to thrust. He groaned and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to muffle the sound. Not that he cared if anyone heard him, but given the fact that Maka was on her knees in front of him with her lips wrapped around his dick, he should probably exercise a little stealth mode to protect whatever modesty of hers that he could. 

  It was dark in the east wing upstairs hall closet of his family home. He couldn't even see his hand in front of his face; not that it mattered at the moment. Another well-placed thick lick had him momentarily slack-jawed and weak-kneed as he swallowed another moan.

  When his parents had sent the invitation for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary party, Soul had inwardly groaned while RSVP'ing by phone at the insistence of his girlfriend. Her previously firm meister voice had faltered (and gone hilariously squeaky) when he'd turned toward her with a malicious smile, the receiver of their archaic telephone still pressed to his ear, stating to his brother that he'd be bringing her along with him.

  She'd paled considerably, a pretty big feat (considering she was pretty pale already), her eyes big and unblinking as she watched him hang up a few minutes later, swallowing thickly before stammering her worries of being a stranger and intruding on such a special event.

  "No worries," he'd mumbled as he'd shuffled off to the kitchen for a snack before dinner. Shit, it was his turn to cook tonight. "My parents won't care. They wanna meet you. Besides," he'd called over his shoulder as he'd inspected the cupboard and found it seriously lacking. He made a quick mental note to go to the store. "My brother Wes will be there, and I'm sure you guys'll hit it off." He'd prayed that he'd managed to keep the anxiety out of his voice, but based on the way Maka was looking at him, he didn't have high hopes.

  Two weeks and one flight later, Soul found himself standing stiffly in his old home, watching Maka stand with a small group of his mother's friends, all of whom were intently listening to Wes as he retold one of his latest concerts with the New York Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he noticed the somewhat glazed look come over Maka's normally clear green gaze, knowing that she didn't understand even half of what his brother was talking about, but that she was far too polite to do anything but provide her undivided attention.

  She looked so good in the inky black and form fitting cocktail dress that Soul had helped her pick out. She'd always looked great in black.

  At the first available moment, he'd intercepted and tugged her hand in his, pulling her along and away from his brother's charms to have a moment all to himself with his girlfriend. Was it selfish? Sure. He didn't give a fuck. Besides, Wes had given him a strange look that he couldn't quite decipher, along with a somewhat creepy and knowing little grin that had grated Soul's nerves and left him clenching his sharp teeth almost painfully.

  And apparently Maka's hand. He'd released her fingers and muttered a sheepish "sorry" as she'd frowned at him, giving her hand a small shake as she'd followed him down an empty hallway.

  "This place is _huge_!" Maka's eyes were round as she'd taken in her surroundings, her black heels clacking on the polished hardwood floor.

  "Yeah. Been in the family a long time," he mumbled somewhat nonchalantly. "Used to run down the hall in my socks and slide like crazy." They came to stand in front of a large paneled wooden door, and Soul's red eyes swept to check the hall for any stray guests, his long fingers curling around the ornate handle and turning it. He flipped on the light, and couldn't help but smile at the gasp that escaped Maka as she allowed him to usher her inside, closing the door behind him with a gentle click.

  How nostalgic.

  Soul took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of furniture polish as he surveyed the music room where he'd spent most of his days, seated behind the family Steinway, his feet barely able to reach the pedals as he repeatedly practiced his scales and arpeggios. The dark paneled wooded walls hadn't lost their luster, the built in bookshelves were still packed with books about music theory, and the large and rather ornate fireplace still took up a fair amount of space in the decent sized room. An antique sofa faced the hearth, and Soul could still remember his father sitting upon the upholstered furniture, pouring over company paperwork and occasionally critiquing the most recent piece of music that Soul had been told to practice.

  "This is so beautiful, Soul!" Her fingers gently grazed the glossy wood of the piano, her gaze warm as her eyes met his, the air heavy with her silent plea for him to play, even though she knew his answer already. She could practically see him in his youth, sitting upon the plush red velvet cushioned bench, legs dangling over the edge, his fingers dancing effortlessly over the smooth keys, the windows behind him flooding the room with light as music echoed in the large room.

  He shrugged his shoulders distractedly, his gaze falling upon his mother's harp in the corner, as well as the small stool beside it. He noted that Wes's music stand was where it always was, and he felt a small tug of anxiety as he wondered whether or not he was going to perform for the guests tonight, praying to whatever god might be listening that he didn't somehow also get roped into performing for the party patrons. Maka was one thing, but a room full of strangers...

  Just as he felt a mild panic attack forming, Maka laced her fingers in his again, smiling at him sweetly before pulling him to sit beside her on the piano bench with a no-nonsense tug. "Which note is G, again?"

  He sighed in mock exasperation as he raised the fall board, cracking his knuckles and chuckling lightly at her frown of disgust at his bad habit. "Thought that big nerd-brain of yours never forgot _anything_..."

  She lightly smacked his arm as his finger gently plucked the key, rolling her eyes at his whine of her abuse, and she could feel his gaze upon her face as she mimicked his movements on the lower register. He played the scale slowly and she followed, her tempo a bit off, but she could still tell that he seemed oddly more relaxed than he did since they'd first arrived. She slowly removed her hand from the cool ivory, leaning her head against his shoulder as he began to slowly play, his spine no longer in his usual lazy slouch, his foot tapping gracefully along the pedals beneath them.

  She watched his fingers as they flowed effortlessly across the keys, her eyes taking in every detail of the hands that she adored so much, her own hand resting upon his thigh and loving the feeling of the crisp black fabric of his dress pants beneath her pressing fingers. She bit her lip to stifle her snicker as Soul's rhythm faltered slightly at her touch. She drew light and teasing circles in the tense muscle, her eyes watching his fingers for any sign of distraction. Sexual tension was mounting as she slowly dragged her nails up his leg a bit higher, her mind just beginning to wonder exactly how much effort it would take to make him lose his composure completely, when Wes walked in and ruined Soul's concentration enough to make the last few notes of the song clang together noisily.

  The elder Evans son quirked an eyebrow and shot a playful smirk at Soul as he made his way into the room, "Sorry to interrupt," he chuckled a little at the slight blush that lit up Maka's cheeks as she put a little distance between them on the bench, and the way Soul ran his fingers through his hair like he always did when he was nervous. "But I wanted to go over the speech that we're giving later-"

  "We?!?" Soul's bewildered look was priceless, and would've been funny if not for the way that the color drained from his face.

  Wes merely tilted his head slightly, a gentle smile upon his face and a playful glint in his eyes as he watched Soul mentally squirm. Maka studied the older young man for a brief moment; his hair such a pale blonde that it was almost white, his eyes a rich mahogany that reminded Maka of the expensive brandy that her father would break out on holidays. His jaw was strong, he was very stylishly clean cut and the resemblance to Soul was there, no doubt; but Maka preferred her weapon's rugged good looks and bad-boy-don't-give-a-shit attitude, with a healthy dose of loyalty and protection thrown in for good measure over anything.

  The silence was unnerving.

  The young girl stood, glancing at them both somewhat warily, obviously fighting some inner battle between staying to defend Soul (from what, Wes wasn't sure), and leaving them to their discussion in private. She seemed to come to some sort of decision as the silence and Soul's fidgeting dragged on. "I'm uh, I'm just going to uh, gonna go get something to drink..."  
She offered Wes a small smile on her way out, the sound of her shoes against the hardwood floor echoing in the space as she shut the door behind her, and Wes couldn't help but smile at the way his seventeen-year-old little brother's (where had the time gone?) eyes followed her devotingly the entire way.

  The softness in his eyes was gone in a snap as he flickered his now sour gaze back to Wes. "Wes, I'm not-"

  Wes waved a hand at him. "I know, I know. Don't worry- you don't have to say anything during the speech, you just have to stand up there with me. I just said that hoping that she'd give us a minute to talk."

  Soul raised an eyebrow warily at Wes, his hand reaching up to gently close the fallboard, his blood-red eyes never leaving his brother's knowing gaze. "About...?"

  Wes shifted his weight and put his hands in the pockets of his suit pants as he watched Soul stand up, wondering just when it was that his little brother had shot up to near his own height, and cleared his throat a little before asking how school was going.

  Soul adjusted his own suit jacket as he came around the Steinway to lean against it like their mother had always scolded him against in his youth. "Fine. Good. Why?"

  Wes shook his head a little at the defensive edge in Soul's voice. "No reason. Just being a big brother and making sure that you're okay. Are you?"

  "I'm fine."

  "I know." He laughed a little at the annoyed and slightly confused look Soul gave him. "Maka mentioned that you're a Death Scythe? That's really cool."

  Soul ran his hands through his hair again as he looked over Wes's shoulder, too embarrassed to meet his eye. "Yeah...Was a lotta work, and all...But it was worth it. Made Maka a bit of a legend, too. Not that she needed any help..."

  
  Wes couldn't help but note the tone of admiration and the obvious respect that Soul held for Maka. He was pleased with the person that Soul had grown into; was glad that he'd overcome the gloomy and moody little thirteen-year-old who'd seemed so lost in his own skin. He also knew that it was a good thing that Soul had taken the chance and left this all behind to pursue something that would truly allow him to pave his own path in this world, to discover his own hidden talents (that hadn't been decided _for_ him), and to reach goals and standards that he would set for himself.

  Maka was driven, and she'd brought out the best in Soul that Wes had already known existed. He'd seen it lurking just below the surface only a handful of times in his life, and he could tell without a doubt that every wonderful change he'd observed tonight in Soul's behavior was for the better and all due to that young girl.

  Wes wondered if Soul knew just how lucky he was to have a meister and friend like Maka, and asked him just that.

  "Yeah, I know..." He mumbled as he ran his hand along the top board prop, his eyes inspecting it for dust, no doubt, while using it as another excuse not to meet the piercing and knowing gaze of his older brother. "She's cool."

  Wes clapped his shoulder affectionately. "Yeah, I can tell. I'm proud of you, Soul."

 

 

  Soul decided to head out shortly thereafter and find Maka, his mind reeling with the words that his brother had so casually spoken to him; words that he'd practically bent over backwards in order to try and pry from either of his parents but with little to no success. He currently felt weird and almost gooey on the inside, so unstable and uncomfortable in his own skin, and needing to feel something sturdy and familiar-

  He was interrupted from his mind's incessant ramblings by a hand shooting out of the hall closet, pale and slender fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket and jerking him backwards. "Wha-?"

  And then everything went black.

  Wait, he knew that smell. It was a clean and slightly floral scent that reminded him of the detergent that he used back home in Death City. "Maka?"

  She giggled gently, her disembodied voice floating somewhere near his ear as she shushed him lightly, his panic erasing immediately. Soul turned his head in an effort to pinpoint her location, but he was disoriented and confused, one hand pressed to the door to keep his balance, the other searching for his meister. "Maka, what are you-?"

  Her hands were on him, fingers gripping and tugging on the lapels of his jacket, pulling him against her body gently. Ah. _This_ he knew. Her lips were comforting and familiar, soft and sweet, and her hips were sinful as they pressed into his. He didn't have a clue as to what had gotten into her, but he wasn't _about_ to look into it too deeply. Especially when she was loosening his tie (neck noose) and unbuttoning his collar enough to plant wet, open mouthed kisses against his skin.

  He sucked in a hiss as one of her hands wound through his hair, the other one unbuttoning his jacket to run her fingers teasingly along his abdomen, her skillful mouth distracting him and making his pulse beat wildly. He tried to wrap his arms around her, but she squirmed out of his grasp, disentangling herself from him completely and disappearing into the void, making him want to dent his own skull with a book.

  His brain fractured a mere moment later and he sucked in his breath when he felt her hands smooth up the front of his thighs, her palms warm and sure as her fingers traced his zipper. He gripped her shoulder as he felt her kneel before him and whispered her name questioningly, everything sounding so loud in the darkness (or maybe that was just due to his blood roaring in his ears), all air whooshing out of his bursting lungs seconds later when her hands gripped his hips to help hold him against her mouth, which was working against the bulge in his dress slacks.

  His hips bucked against her mouth of their own accord as he fought to keep still, his mind short-circuiting and his stomach clenching in barely contained excitement as she nipped him playfully through the fabric.

  He was gonna die. She was too much.

  Her agile fingers unbuckled his belt, yanking his shirt out of the waistband as he gripped her shoulders tightly to help keep her sturdy, or maybe to keep him grounded at this point. Tugging on the zipper, she worked him free in a matter of seconds, and he groaned long and low at the first tentative swipe of her tongue from the base to tip of him. She hissed at him to keep quiet, which he nodded to mutely, finally whispering a breathless "okay" when he realized that she couldn't see him.

  He released a shaky exhale as her tongue traced the tip of him, swirling around and around, her breath hot and humid against his flesh. His head fell back against the heavy door with a muted thud as he tried to process just what his girlfriend was doing to him for the first time. He idly wondered just what it was that had set her off and brought this on. He didn't have long to input any of the necessary information, though, because she was wrapping her lips around him, and it felt like his dick was literally melting. 

  Fuck him. Her hand was nice and all (don't get him wrong), but it had nothing on her mouth.

  His hands found the soft strands of hair that he knew so well, fingers ghosting along her strong jaw, a grunt escaping his parted lips at the feel of her jaw's muscles working beneath his fingertips. She released him from the confines of what felt like her fucking throat in order to hiss at him again to keep quiet, and he mumbled a half-assed apology, because he honestly couldn't give a fuck about anything else _but_ her right now, and he gave a small gasp at the feel of her tongue pressing against the small, thick vein that ran just under the head of him.

  He had to press the back of his hand to his lips to stifle his groan as she took him in her mouth again and began to suckle, her tongue cupping him as his unoccupied hand cupped the back of her head gently. The movement of her mouth combined with him feeling every bob of her head against his broad palm made the experience that much more surreal for him, and it wasn't long before he was squirming beneath her, pushing lightly against her shoulders in an effort to make her understand, because words were beyond him and he couldn't seem to make her understand just what was about to happen-

  Maka's hands gripped his rear, earning her a startled squeak from her weapon as she pressed him against her, her silent answer to his questioning turmoil as he whimpered his understanding at last. The very sound sent an extra thrill through her already heated blood, and the very idea that she could reduce her snarky, brooding, sarcastic, loving, devastatingly good-looking weapon to this state made her thighs clench together as she fought the warmth already spreading through her extremities. It was incredibly arousing, and suddenly nothing mattered more to her than getting him off.

  He was chanting her name in a desperate whisper over and over above her, both hands resting upon the back of her head lightly as his hips stuttered and gently began to thrust into her, his breath hitching and catching as a rather loud gasp filled the air. She couldn't chastise him for the loud noise even if she wanted to, because Soul was shaking beneath her hands and quivering in her mouth as he came, his voice beautiful and somewhat hoarse as he grunted her name mixed with the usual expletives that normally followed him coming into her palm.

  But this was completely different.

  She slammed her eyes shut as she forced herself to swallow the disgusting flavor that she'd only been semi-prepared for, fighting the urge to gag as he finished and slid from her mouth at last. Her lips felt swollen and tingled as she wiped the corners of her mouth and slowly stood on trembling legs, brushing away any wrinkles from the fitted skirt of her dress.

  Soul couldn't feel his feet as he leaned his weight heavily against the cool closet door, trying to catch his breath and a fraction of his own cool, only to come up short and not giving one single fuck. His mind was blown, he felt inexplicably sated, and couldn't help that he felt absurdly proud of the fact that he'd just received his first blow job.

  His brain finally re-booted as he fumbled around for the string that connected to the hanging bulb, only to blink back dazedly at the wattage that temporarily blinded him, squinting and finally focusing on Maka, who was gripping the cord and sipping punch from a cup rather daintily as she eyed him through a verdant sidelong glance.

  She smiled over the rim of her cup at him, winking and giggling at his blank stare, watching an adorable blush dust his cheeks as he scrubbed at the back of his neck and mumbled something incoherent.

  Could he be anymore adorable?

  She turned her back to give him a minute to adjust himself and right his wardrobe, only to squeak as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her against him roughly, the lingering contents of her cup sloshing around somewhat precariously. "Soul-?"

  His lips were against the shell of her ear and his breath was hot against her skin, his tongue tracing the cartilage before his sharp teeth nipped at her earlobe, a thrumming wave of excitement running down her spine at the husky edge his voice had taken on. "You don't think we're done, do you?" One hand trailed down her abdomen teasingly as the slender fingers of his other hand wrapped around her wrist, her own fingers still gripping the light's worn cord.

  And then everything went black.


	6. Unavailable

 

 

  There was just something about the way that she moved, hips swiveling delicately and hypnotically, toes curling and flexing against crisp sheets, her fingers wrapping around the metal rungs of his headboard with practiced ease. She always thinks it'll help to keep her grounded, but they both knew better. Besides, her hands would end up in his hair anyway; they always did.

  Soul slowly slid his palms up smooth and powerful shins, being mindful of recent bruises that were already forming and mild scratches that were starting to heal. He applied gentle pressure at her quaking knees, parting them and pushing them apart with the slightest press of his fingers. She let a small whimper escape her lips, and it made him suck in a breath. She was gorgeous, lying bare before him, her eyes big and green and beautiful as she bit her lower lip and stared into his very soul.

  He smirked lazily at her and grazed his thumbs in teasing circles along the quivering flesh of her inner thighs. Her knew her legs must be sore, but he continued to take his time, sealing his silent vow to make it up to her later (with a massage) with a small kiss above his right thumb, settling himself between her thighs with ease.

  Maka gasped at the small touch that he bestowed upon her. His bare skin was warm against hers, having lost his shirt early on in their frenzy. He'd been on her the second they'd crossed the threshold, his touch firm and unyielding as he'd pushed her against the wall and proceeded to strip her as quickly as possible. She'd been so taken aback and swept away by the suddenness of it all, that she'd found herself lost in a heated whirlwind of teeth and tongue in a matter of minutes. Her hair was still damp from her quick shower at the school's locker room, and she shivered lightly as he pressed open mouth kisses against her inner thighs.

  She liked to think that she had more willpower, that she'd be able to last a little longer before the dam burst, but his tongue had snaked from between his lips to lick the inside of her thigh, and she was a goner. "Soul," she gasped breathily, and he bit her gently in reply. "So-ooouuuuullll-" she writhed and moaned as he switched to her other thigh. Why did he do this to her? He was so terrible!

  He did this to her because there was just something about watching her surrender herself that drove him absolutely crazy; watching his strong, stubborn, badass meister tear down the walls that she had painstakingly built with her own two hands set him on fire. Their trust for one another was absolute, devotion unwavering, and the love radiating between them was tangible. She was proud and hard-headed to a fault, and if he could get her to give in, get her to beg and plead, to scream and writhe and give him everything, then there would be fun had by all.

  She was trembling in anticipation as she gripped the headboard above her that much more tightly, willing herself to hold on that much longer, but he upped the ante by inching even closer to her aching core, his lips reverent and insistent as he kissed the crease where her hip met her thigh. Her breath caught in her throat and her hips jerked spasmodically, her throat tight and voice sounding foreign to her as she whispered his name again.

  Either he couldn't hear her or he was tuning out anything but what he wanted to hear at the moment, because he continued his teasing, even as his right hand trailed closer and closer towards the wetness he had already brought out in her. She tried again to get him to concede and take pity on her, even though she knew that it was pointless.

  "Say it," he urged her, his breath hot against her as she whimpered, arching her lower back in her mounting frustration. "Maka."

  "I-I" she stammered as his tongue gingerly traced her lower lips with the faintest of caresses, hovering so dangerously near and yet so ridiculously far. "So-ooul-"

  He grazed his sharp teeth along the wet flesh and she gasped loudly, a cry on the tip of her tongue. He was so hard it ached, but he could wait; his patience was always rewarded in the end. "Whad ya say?" He nipped at said skin and grinned wickedly into her skin, her voice finally breaking free of her tight chest.

  "Please, Soul! Please please please please please I _need_ -!" She cried out as he fastened his lips around her clit and flicked his tongue over her, answering her pleas with his own moan as his arms wrapped around her thighs to help anchor her bucking hips. "Oh, God, SOUL!" He placed her legs over his shoulders and pressed a hand against her stomach to keep her still.

  He released his suction and kissed her soaking flesh, making love to her with his lips and tongue as she writhed and whimpered, her knuckles white as her strong fingers gripped the rungs of their headboard with all her might, her toes curling as her back bowed and she gasped and mewled.

  There was no where he'd rather be than right here, right now, gliding his tongue along her and feeling her begging and pleading above him. He loved the way his name fell from her lips as she praised him over and over again, her head thrashing from side to side as his fingers grazed along her hip. She was so strong and sure, stubborn and steadfast, lithe and lean, and the very fact that he could reduce her to pants and gasps of his name while she begged and pleaded him to make her feel good, it was his absolutely favorite thing in the world.

  A sudden intrusive noise had her tensing and slowing to a halt beneath him, and he shared his displeasure at having to compete for her attention with a growl and particularly rough nip at her opening, making her squeak and jerk against him. "S-Soul!" She gasped, green eyes already searching elsewhere. "Phone- the phone."

  "Don't care," he growled, pulling her down and against his face rather forcefully. Fuck, was it so ridiculous to allow him even _one_ moment of peace with his meister? He just wanted one free night at home with her, where no one had any extra lessons, training or missions. Apparently that was asking for far too much as her phone continued to ring on the nightstand, making her struggle to half-heartedly sit up a bit. He grunted his displeasure and continued what he was doing.

  He does not like to be interrupted.

  "But-" she was breathless, and she could tell that her weapon approved of her current state, but could he just ease up and be practical for a second? The screen of her phone was lit up but was barely visible, showing her that the DWMA was in fact on the other end. She had legitimate concerns at the present moment, and they were starting to clear the foggy haze that had been clouding her judgement. "What if it's an emergency?"

  His response was a hard, flat-tongued lick that had her moaning and collapsing back against the pillows with a palm flat against her abdomen, urging her to lie back down. He could give two fucks less about the rest of the world right now. He was fucking busy, and everyone else could just hold the fuck on, because he hadn't seen much of Maka in the past three days, and he _needed_ this; watching her nearly incapacitate both Killig AND Black*Star in hand to hand combat while training among the meisters that afternoon had gotten his engines revving, and he couldn't take it anymore.

  She whimpered as her phone persistently rang, vibrating against the nightstand, his eyes watching her as she fought a losing battle with the pleasure he was forcing upon her. Her phone went silent at last, and her fingers weaved through albino strands, caressing him with a sigh as he groaned at her touch. His tongue traced random shapes against her clit, and her grip tightened slightly at the sensation.

  He could feel her, close to the edge and yet not nearly close enough to tumble over the precarious side. He could help with that.

  Soul removed her hands from his head, sliding up her body and encouraging her to wrap her fingers around the cool metal above her once more, smirking at her cry of outrage at his abrupt departure. He placed a tender kiss against her collarbone, nibbled at her neck as he thrust against her slowly, like he had all the time in the world. She sighed and cooed his name as he slid his length against her, his tip repeatedly bumping against her clit, his hands aiding her in wrapping her long legs loosely around his waist.

  He was about to sink into her gratefully, to start thrusting until he became numb from the waist down, when a cry of her name from their bathroom had both of them freezing, blinking at one another owlishly at the sound of her father's voice echoing off of bathroom tile.

  She blinked and flushed, gritting her teeth in seething anger as Soul dropped his head in defeat against her shoulder. They'd resorted to their bathroom mirror. Fuck. He whined pitifully, bucking against her like the massochist that he was. He had been so close. He hated her father. He hated Lord Death. He hated his life. He hated himself, because he couldn't quit torturing himself as he nibbled at the skin behind her ear. If he's suffering, then she's going to, too. He's taking down the whole world with him, dammit.

  Maka was tense and frozen beneath him, her fingertips digging into his back as he finally gave in. He gave up. It just wasn't meant to be, he supposed with a growl and multiple curse words. He could hear Shinigami-sama suggesting that maybe they should try Soul's phone now, and he seriously fought the urge to slam it against the nearest wall before going Death Scythe on it.

  He began to sit up, to do what must be done despite his screaming groin. He stopped at the realization that he couldn't go anywhere; Maka's hands were still pressing him to her, leaving no room for him to move away.

  He turned his head, scowling at her as he hissed, "Do you mind-?" His breath was stalled in his throat as she stared at him with all the strength and determination that she usually reserved for Pre-K's, or any other stupid opponent who dared to piss her off (usually a certain blue-haired ninja). He blinked at her stupidly as she hissed at him to be quiet, her hand snaking between them to wrap around him and press him against her opening.

  She couldn't-

  She didn't intend to-?

  She did.

  Soul bit back a gasp as he was surrounded by her, his phone beginning to vibrate in the pocket of his discarded jeans that were currently in a heap on the floor. Her mouth was persistent as she crashed his lips to hers, wriggling and writhing against him and easing him into her tight passage with her hips. He tried to fight it- he really did...But she was his meister, she was his girlfriend, she was the woman that he loved, and she was determined to finish what he'd started, even as Shinigami-sama's voice echoed in their bathroom, threatening to maim her bawling father if he didn't shut up and pull himself together.

  Soul kept his mouth attached to hers, his knees shaking as he went slow and hard, making as little noise as possible as she wriggled her hand between them to stroke herself, all of the noise around them turning to static and white noise as she broke the kiss to whisper against his ear, begging him to not stop. "Please," she gasped quietly, her teeth nibbling against his earlobe as he groaned lowly, his hips picking up the pace just a tad more. "God, Soul- _please_ -"

  He sealed his mouth over hers again as he obliged, letting his thrusts grow harder, her voice squeaking in her throat, both of their phones blowing up, the voices drowning out as she clamped around him, pulsing and pulling him deeper, her fingers working that much harder as her nails dug into his shoulders, crying out softly into his mouth as she came at last.

  Maka began to relax and slump beneath him as she came down from her high, Soul's entire body taught with his own need to come, his eyes clenched shut and teeth gritting almost painfully as he fought to keep quiet, so close to the edge of losing it. He needed...he needed... What he _needed_ was for everyone to just take a damn hint and go the fuck away so that he could just-

  Maka seemed to sense his chaos, because her fingers were back in his hair as she pulled his lips back to hers. Her voice was a breathless whisper as she urged him to resonate with her. He nodded shakily, feeling their souls reach out and connect as he continued to thrust, concentrating on her incredible heat as she met him halfway. She channeled her pleasure and contentment into him, biting back a gasp at the feeling of him hovering so close to the brink. She cooed against his lips, told him how good he felt in breathless whispers as he hissed her name.

  He buried his head in the pillow beside her head as he thrust as deeply as he was able, his arms snaking beneath her knees, linking them over his elbows to push her legs higher. Wow. He'd never worked at something so hard in his entire life. Soul shook as he groaned lowly, panting as he stilled at last, exquisite relief causing him to rest part of his weight upon Maka, who was running her hands up and down his back slowly. She giggled lightly as he pressed a kiss to her ear, the apartment eerily and blessedly silent at last.

  "Was that so fuckin' hard?" He murmured tiredly against her temple. "Looks like they finally got the damn hint."

  A pounding at the front door shook them from their peace. "Soul! You in there, Bro?!?" Wide eyes both red and green blinked at each other in disbelief.

  Seriously?!?

  "Black*Star," they both growled before scrambling to get dressed. It'd be only a matter of moments before he broke the damn door down, if history was any indication.


	7. Shake Me

 

 

  He never should've brought it up.

  Soul fights the urge to drag a hand down his face in frustration, settling instead for running his fingers through his hair in restless agitation; because fighting his chronic bed-head _always_ put him in the best of moods...

  He sighs somewhat morosely and a lot dramatically as he trudges slowly up the stairs, his keys jangling in his pocket, his normally stoic brow furrowed in thought as he contemplates his next move with the girl he shares his home with, admitting that maybe it had been the stupidest idea to date to bring such a sensitive topic to light.

  But it had needed to be addressed, dammit! He just wants her to be happy; his ultimate goal in life is to keep both her body and soul free from harm- safe and sound. His desire to fuel her well-being with satisfaction and contentment probably borders on the possessively protective side of the scale, but he chalks it up to being the world's coolest and most ultimate weapon.

  No good deed goes unpunished.

  He and Maka had been deepening the physical aspect to their relationship for the past three months, and while sex with his meister-turned-girlfriend had been nothing short of amazing, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty on his end. The pleasure scale thus far had been unfairly tipped more towards him, leaving him feeling not only selfish, but a little (a lot) like an idiot; what guy has trouble getting his girlfriend off during sex for three whole months?

  It wasn't for lack of trying; if anything, he should be getting a damn gold medal for his efforts. They'd tried so many positions that Soul's pretty sure that they could write their own damn book. It warms him to know that Maka trusts him enough and is comfortable enough around him to try such things, but he still feels like he's not holding up his end of the deal. He's heard through disgusting locker room talk that it's 'not the guy's job to get the girl off,' and the fact that there are losers like that out there make him sick. Sex with his girlfriend isn't a job, for one; secondly, if people were that selfish in bed, Death only knew what they were like outside of the bedroom, and that thought made him shudder.

  He's not completely clueless- he knows from digging around on the Internet (and through porn that he'll never admit to seeing) that women need to have additional stimulation in order to come, and that about 80 percent of women can't come through just penetration (gag him) alone, but he still feels embarrassed and a little more inept with each passing minute that he spends sulking over his current predicament.

  It's not like he leaves her hanging. Soul is extremely thorough when it comes to foreplay, and watching Maka come around his fingers or against his tongue was always a great little boost for his ego, but...

  He just wants her to experience the same intensity that he does. He wants to feel her come around him, wants to taste his name on her lips while she loses herself beneath him. Or on top of him. He's not picky.

  He should've known that trying to test the waters with her would lead to misunderstandings and hurt feelings all around, but he'd hoped that if he'd brought it up gently and been supportive that she wouldn't have shut down and become all defensive.

  What- was he new here?!?

  He knew better; at least, he thought he did. Women could sometimes be sensitive creatures, and Maka (while still her own breed of incredible) was no exception. The topic of sex made both of them a little bit uncomfortable to begin with, seeing as how they were still relatively new to it. Toss into the mix a topic consisting of her not being able to achieve something and, well...Now things were weird between them, and he wasn't sure how to mend them. Where was he supposed to go from here?

  Coming to the top of the landing, he's just pulling his keys from the pocket of his jeans when he notices Maka standing in front of their door, her eyes intently studying a small package that she holds in her hands along with the rest of the mail. Glancing over her shoulder and meeting his eyes causes a brief moment of panic to manifest itself upon her features for the barest of seconds, and Soul takes immediate interest in the way her cheeks pink and how tense her shoulders look before she turns her own keys in the lock and pushes the door wide, leaving it open for him.

  He decides to attempt to break the ice with a tilt of his head, shutting the door behind him and gesturing towards the parcel that she seems to be trying to hide from him. "What's that?"

  Maka fumbles with her keys, almost dropping them and it makes him raise a brow in curiosity at her new-found nervousness around him. "Hm? Oh- it's uh...It's nothing!" She clears her throat in that way that she always does when she becomes uncomfortable.

  Well now he _definitely_ needs to know. Soul tries valiantly to peek over her shoulder at the little box, but it reveals nothing as she shoves him away with her hip. "Doesn't seem like nothin'," he grins as she swallows nervously, kicking off her shoes and trying her best to remove her sweater with only one hand. "Maaakaaaa-" This was normal; this playfulness between them is the stability that Soul has been craving as of late.

  His meister growls irritably at his persistence, throwing her cardigan over the back of a kitchen chair before turning around to face him. She sighs in defeat, turning the cardboard over in her hands and staring at the brown paper, refusing to meet his eye as she mumbles, "It's embarrassing..."

  His cocky little teasing grin falters and slowly slides from his face as he watches Maka's shoulders hunch up ever so slightly in embarrassment, her head bowing a little further to aid her in keeping her face hidden from his scrutinizing gaze. Soul sighs gently, his hand reaching out to brush her long hair over her shoulder. "You don't hafta tell me if you don't wanna-" He would never do anything to make her uncomfortable.

  Maka shakes her head quickly, ash blonde whipping against his hand gently as her thumb nail begins to slowly pry open the mystery package in her hands. "It's not that I don't want to... It's just-" She bites her lip thoughtfully, and Soul tries to dip his head to catch a glimpse of her eyes, but she seems determined to hide her blush from him as much as she can. "It has to do with our conversation...last week..."

  Well, he definitely wasn't expecting _that_. Soul feels his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a rather unintelligent "Haah?" slipping out from between his lips before he can stop himself. This could go any number of ways. Emergency exits are mapped out in his brain before it shuts down. His eyes find themselves suddenly glued to her strong fingers, which are quickly and efficiently prying open the secret that resides beyond the postal service's box and he finds himself almost choking on his own spit as she pulls out something wrapped in gaudy packaging, holding it out to him with as much bravery as she can muster while looking off to the side and blushing violently.

  Dear Death.

  It's a...vibrator...? A tiny little one that slips on the end of a finger. He takes it from her nervous fingers and blinks at it. Soul finds himself staring dumbly at the little device, then back at Maka, then back to the sex toy (what the fuck?) in his hand, then back up to quiet Maka, who is currently observing his reactions out of the corner of her eye while she rocks back and forth on her heels innocently. Soul wants to ask her who in the hell she is, because this _can't_ be the same Maka that growls and berates Blair for leaving all of her toys around, who he shares his soul with, who he slays kishin with, but he can't seem to find his voice as she grasps his hand and pulls him towards his bedroom, heedless of his shocked silence that is loaded with questions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Maka is brave; no one can deny that her courage is the stuff that legends are made of, but it comes on her own terms. Her reckless fearlessness is met with her own decisions, and forcing someone as stubborn as her to do something before they're ready is a recipe for nothing short of an epic disaster. Not that he would ever force her to do anything she's not okay with- in the bedroom or otherwise. Her comfort always comes first.

  So, he takes his time. Sitting back on his heels in front of her, he pops open the button on her jeans and pulls the zipper down painfully slow, running his hands along her hips and thumbing her hipbones tenderly as he places gentle kisses above her lace trimmed panties. He can feel the tension in her muscles melting beneath his grip as he smiles against her skin. Smooth skin. Warm skin. So perfect. He can read her movements as easily as she can read his, and there's something so strangely comforting in knowing someone so intimately.

  Maka runs her fingers through his hair, the glow from the sunset peeking in through his drawn curtains lighting up the frosty strands with intensity, and it makes him sigh against her as he rubs his thumbs along her prominent hips. He loves her hips. They're so incredibly sexy and strong, and the fact that he can touch them whenever he wants to just adds more fuel to the fire.

  Soul's hands begin to push her tanktop up her abdomen as he rises to his knees, revealing more of her soft skin to his greedy lips and tongue. He enjoys this, he thinks as he traces the familiar old scars along her ribs with his tongue, hearing her soft sighs and low hums of approval. He thoroughly enjoys unwrapping his meister like she's a present. As corny as it sounds, she is an amazing gift, and he fights the urge to snort at his own special blend of romcom lameness.

  Soul begins to peel the fabric of her skinny jeans down, down, down, only stopping to run his hands appreciatively along her strong, smooth, long legs. It's a little weird to see Maka in street clothes that aren't some form of a skirt, and he likes her bare legs much better than when they're covered in leggings or denim. He glances up at her and flashes a devious smirk before leaning forward to place a kiss upon the small bow adorning her lace-trimmed hips, feeling her fingers twine themselves in his hair that much more tightly.

  She's nervous and a little unsure. He can tell in the way that she smoothes his unruly hair back before tucking it behind his ear. She's fidgeting, and Soul gently wraps his fingers around her wrist to pull her fingers to his mouth, placing a reassuring kiss against her fingertips before tipping his head back to look up at her. There is a question swirling in his vermillion gaze, and Maka answers it with a gently reassuring smile before tugging Soul up to his feet.

  He's so much taller than her- when did that happen? Her hands are eager to speed up the pace as she begins to pull his black v-necked t-shirt up over his stomach. Soul thankfully takes over, hauling it over his head as she kicks off her jeans and steps out of the puddle of denim, kicking them to the side along with his. She doesn't even have time to begin trying to remove her cami before Soul's long fingers pull the straps down her shoulders and out of his way as he nuzzles her neck slowly.

  Soul breathes her in and takes the time to appreciate just how incredibly soft and fragrant her skin is as her hands map out his stomach. Pale fingers begin to tug at the waistband of his boxers, and Soul finds himself chuckling against the sensitive skin behind her ear. "Easy there, Maka- hey- OW!" She definitely isn't in the mood for his teasing, as is made apparent by her hand slapping his bare shoulder loudly. Soul whines that his meister is so abusive to her poor weapon, but it gets lost among the cool sheets as she pushes him down against the mattress and huffs at him to 'deal with it.'

  He rolls her over onto her back much more easily than usual; she's not a three star meister for no reason. Soul grins down at her in triumph, but feels it fade from his lips as he gets a good look at Maka's eyes, watching bright green cloud over in thought, biting her lip as she overthinks the situation to the point of causing him to once more regret his decision to ever bring the topic up. Now she's obsessing and tensing up, which will get them nowhere fast, with or without the help of the little toy that has been opened and is currently resting on his nightstand.

  "Maka," his voice is low and soothing but seems to do the trick to snap her out of her thoughts nicely. Soul shifts forward and places a gentle kiss upon her forehead as he leans on his elbow and balances his weight upon his knees from where he straddles her long legs. "It's okay- we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

  Her brow furrows as she chews on her lip that much harder, and Soul frowns as his thumb pries her lip out from beneath her relentless blunt teeth. She sighs at last, looking at the ceiling over his shoulder. "It's just..." He waits, ever so patiently, for her to gather her thoughts and voice her concerns. He's awarded for it a few moments later. "What if I..." her eyes flash to his briefly before a light pink hue dusts across her freckles. "You know...still can't...?"

  Soul's eyes are gentle and his lips are feather-light as he places a reassuring kiss upon the arch of her brow. "You can. If it doesn't happen this way, we'll just try somethin' else. No big deal. Don't stress about it."

  "What if there's something wrong with me?" Her voice is small and her throat feels a little tight as the fear that she's been harboring is brought to light. Cool green eyes hold his heated red stare, imploring him to hand her all of the answers that she desires, like the open textbook she's wishing him to be.

  Instead, Soul just shrugs a shoulder. "I dunno- we'll see a specialist, I guess..." At her wide-eyed and disbelieving stare, he bristles and barks out, "Whaddya want me to say? 'M not a doctor!"

  The pillow to the face was probably deserved. The knobby knee to the gut, probably only half. Soul huffs and groans as he fights her half-hearted struggle to usurp him, parting her strong legs and settling himself between them before ripping the pillow from her grasp and allowing it to drop over the side of the bed. He uses his size to his advantage and pins her to his mattress, his hands wrapping themselves around her wrists to keep her from doing any more damage, and finally nipping her collarbone with his sharp teeth in retaliation.

  Maka gasps at the sensation and immediately stills beneath him, whimpering at the feeling of his tongue soothing the abrasions his canines have left behind on her pale skin. His lips trail kisses up her neck, punctuating every few brushes of sultry breath with hard sucks and playful nips. She squirms beneath him, flexing her wrists beneath his firm grasp and arching her lower back.

  Soul traces the shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue before growling, "Play nice." He pulls her earlobe into his mouth as he releases her wrists at last, her arms wrapping around him and pulling him as close to her as she's able. Soul lowers himself onto his forearms as he sinks helplessly into her welcome embrace, tasting her sighs of pleasure as he kisses her deeply.

  Oh, how she loves him. She loves how he kisses her slowly, his fingers grazing her skin softly as he works her into a needy frenzy with relative ease. There's a warm ache pooling in her lower abdomen, and if she doesn't get some friction to alleviate it soon, she's going to have to take matters into her own hands. She shuffles beneath him, squirming as she breaks the kiss to pull her cami over her head, allowing it to fall to the floor as Soul's mouth covers hers again. He's gentle and yet commanding as he presses his weight against her just that much more, his hands roaming and snaking beneath her back to unclasp her bra. She has just enough time to remove it from her skin herself before Soul sweeps in with his mouth to rob her of her thoughts and her breath.

  Soul kisses a heated path down her chest, his tongue pausing in its descent just long enough to swirl around her breasts and cause her to choke on his name, his grin that he presses against her ribs positively wicked. He loves hearing his name like that; loves the way that she tries to swallow it down before he pries it from her chest with a few well placed nips of his sharp teeth. He draws out her low sighs and small gasps as his hands grip her waist to tilt her pelvis upwards slightly. He brushes his lips against the dip in her hips and shudders at the raw catch of his name in her throat, resting his forehead against her skin briefly as he presses his fingertips into her hips to help keep him grounded.

  "Soul-" Maka gasps his name and shivers at the feeling of his breath so low on her abdomen, warmth and wetness grazing along and underneath the lace of her panties. His talent with his tongue is nothing short of amazing, but she knows that if he starts, neither of them will be able or willing to stop any time soon, and they have bigger plans for the evening ahead. "Soul, please- I can't-"

  He's kissing the protests from her lips before they can even fully form, cupping her face with broad palms as he devours her lips and rocks his hips against hers slowly. He's too busy enjoying himself to notice that one of her hands has left his hair, until it slides down his abdomen and beneath his boxers to grasp and stroke him. He groans and feels his mouth go a little slack-jawed as she runs her tongue along his bottom lip. Smug little thing that she is, she tugs and strokes, and his hips are bucking into her hand in no time. Maka's grip on him rivals the one that she uses on his weapon form while in combat, and the connection causes more havoc on his stamina than one would think possible. It's a little odd how the thought of her hands handling him in any way shape or form always gets his blood pumping. Is it a kink? Maybe. He doesn't care, because at the moment he has bigger and better things to concentrate on: like how to calm Maka down at the moment, because she is growing wildly impatient beneath him.

  Which is good. Keeping her so consumed with need keeps her mind from wandering and her over-sized brain from worrying. He thinks that part of the reason as to why Maka has issues is because she can't just relax and shut her mind off for more than five seconds. Don't get him wrong, he loves how smart and ridiculously brilliant Maka is, but when it cuts into her being able to unwind and relax while in bed with her weapon, he has a bit of an issue with it.

  Soul blindly searches for the object of his desire as his tongue tangles with hers, thinking and functioning outside of the realm of touching Maka becoming far too much for his brain to comprehend at the moment. It takes him far longer than necessary to locate the little toy, but he somehow manages to slip the vibrator onto the end of his finger with relative ease as Maka shimmies out of her panties and begins to tug his boxers down his hips. He lets her strip him as he fumbles with the device, testing the button that turns the vibrations on and off. He's just mastered the simplistic thing (he thinks), when Maka's small but strong hands are cupping his face and pulling him down to her demanding mouth again.

  He nibbles her lips and then sighs against her jaw as he thrusts languidly against her, the heat radiating off of her making him relax even further into her, his tongue swirling heated circles against her neck as she presses her fingertips into his lower back in an attempt to get him to move lower. Soul can feel how incredibly wet she is, and it makes him needy with want and greed as he slides himself along her slick warmth.

  Maka moans, clutching him that much more tightly as he slowly slides himself inside of her at last. The full thickness overwhelming her has her desperate to move, to seek some kind of friction, but Soul is having none of it as he hooks her legs around his waist and holds himself still inside of her. It's maddeningly frustrating to give control to someone else, but she trusts Soul, so she grits her teeth and tries not to order him to just fuck her, already!

  He withdraws agonizingly slowly and she practically sobs, it's so good, but she holds back enough to just make it sound like a disgruntled grunt instead. He sinks into her again, slow but hard. Soul groans as she gasps, the pleasure never ceasing to amaze them as he begins a slow rhythm, her hips rising up to meet his thrusts eagerly as her thighs grip his hips like it's their only purpose in this world.

  Soul thrusts into her as deep as he's able, holding himself there and grinding slowly as he kisses her heatedly, feeling her swivel her hips beneath him to try and force him to go back to his previous movement, but he won't be deterred. He intends to drive her crazy; to bring her to the brink of impatient insanity until she begs him to ease the mounting ache within her; only then will her mind be wholly and completely focused on the pleasure that he can bring her.

  She's about two seconds away from flipping them over and taking matters into her own hands when Soul rises onto his knees and looms above her, a faint buzzing noise barely registering before her whole world is shifted on its axis and a broken cry is ripped from her chest.

  Oh dear god. Good. So good. Amazing. Maka slams her eyes shut as her incredible weapon boyfriend presses the little vibrator against her sensitive clit and traces circles in just such a way that has her bucking her hips wildly and clawing at his arms and the sheets like a lunatic as she writhes beneath him. Oh gods she can't even think straight as the foreign sensations rock through her and bring her close to the edge so quickly that it leaves her speechless. No wonder women like these things so much! She barely hears his voice, harsh and throaty as he asks her if it's okay, but she can't answer; she's too far gone.

  Holy shit. Soul stares at the wild girl currently losing her hold on her sanity beneath him, and he's practically choking on his own spit at how loud she's getting. She's so wet, he realizes as he moves a little faster and thrusts a little harder, loses himself that much more as she calls out for him in a high pitched tone that he has only previously heard during fighting. He groans and hisses her name as she becomes unbearably tight and hot around him and dear god, if only they'd thought of trying something like this sooner!

  Maka is tense and suddenly breathless beneath him, eyes tightly shut as gasps pour from her lips, and Soul vaguely recognizes that look on her face as the way she looks when she's about to come on his tongue, but the blood is rushing in his ears and his heart feels like it's about to beat right out of his chest as she arches her back and bites her lip. He moans as he begins to feel a strange and foreign fluttering sensation around his shaft as he continues to thrust into her. Is she-?

  "S-Soul-" she gasps as she freezes and stiffens beneath him. "I-I-I'm-"

  He barely chokes out her name in question when Maka's moans and gasps suddenly turn into a wild howling cry beneath him, Soul's own eyes clenching shut at the feeling of her tightening impossibly around him as an intense wet heat engulfs him. Dear sweet Death she _is_ , and _he_ is, and he continues to move inside of her as they both unravel together for the first time. It's unbelievably satisfying as he shoots off into the atmosphere and actually hears echoes of Maka sobbing in disbelief beneath him. He slows his movements at long last and tries to catch his breath as he removes his hand to allow himself to collapse against her.

  Maka is trembling slightly beneath him as her legs melt away from his hips and her arms lessen their grip around his ribs. Soul switches off the little toy on his finger that has blessed their lives with its presence and rolls off of her carefully. He attempts to blow his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, fails, and finds that he could care less at the moment. He drops the toy onto his nightstand and turns his head to the side to check on his apparently liquid meister, only to lock eyes with her.

  Both share a small smile before elated breathless giggles and chuckles overtake the pair, both rolling onto their sides towards one another once the laughter has died down a bit. Soul brushes her long hair over her shoulder before leaning in for a tender and slow kiss, nuzzling his nose against hers and not giving a single fuck as to how goopy and sappy he's being at the moment. Three months worth of tension is seeping out of his bones, and the incredibly sated glint in Maka's eyes almost makes him want to sing with pride at his ability to finally get her there. Sure it was with the help of a sex toy, but he'll take what he can get if that's the result he'll see every single time.

  She tucks her head under his chin as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her tightly against him, their legs tangling as Maka slings an arm around his waist and keeps him close as she stifles a yawn. "Soul?"

  He grunts a response at her as he closes his eyes, hell bent on catching a nap before he initiates round two (because there will most definitely be a round two in the foreseeable future).

  "If you lose that thing or break it, _you_ have to ask Blair for another one."

  He only yawns at that before answering lowly, "Don't think I won't."

  
  
  
  



	8. Extra Lessons

 

 

  His fiancé is so damn beautiful. Soul knows that he's the luckiest son of a bitch alive, but seeing her like this just sets it all in stone, and his chest practically aches with just how much his heart swells at the sight of seeing her in her element.

  And not just his heart, apparently.

  Soul squirmed lightly in his seat, swallowing his discomfort while adjusting himself discreetly in his jeans before propping his feet up on the corner of the desk that he was occupying in the very back of the classroom that he had hunkered down in. Being a Deathscythe had perks, and one of those being that he was technically a teacher (sorta), so he was able to come and go with pretty much limitless restrictions and access all over Shibusen. While waiting for his meeting time with Kid, he decided to check in on a certain classroom, slouching inside lazily as the students finished filing in, trying his best to block out the whispers and gasps at his presence; it got old years ago, and it's still happening, much to his dismay.

  Soul stretched and smirked at the dirty look Maka threw in his general direction from her place at the front of the classroom, flipping her hair over her shoulder in annoyance at his lack of tact. There was nothing more fun in his book than poking her from afar, knowing that she couldn't do a damn thing about it. Free entertainment.

  Turning back towards the blackboard, Maka's voice took on an authoritative edge as she continued to list off the things that she expected her students to cover for their upcoming test at the end of the week. Soul schooled his features into the stoic mask of indifference he wore so often when he himself was in the surrounding seats a few years back, allowing his red eyes to rove appreciatively over Maka's ass in the meantime. His fingers twitched with the need to caress, lightly tapping out a beat upon the wooden surface of the desk as he made a mental note to thank Liz for the black pencil skirt that she'd bought his meister as a "good luck on your first day back" gift. Maka had politely declined at first, until Liz had insisted that Maka's body was _made_ for the fit, and that she wasn't fourteen anymore, and that pleated skirts were for students, _not_ teachers.

  Soul would have to agree with Liz when it came to the fit; the black fabric looked like it was tailor made just for Maka, and he decided that the thank-you note was definitely going to include a bottle of wine as Maka bent over slightly to finish her notes. He found himself wiping at a moist corner of his mouth in a slight daze, tilting his head to the side in apt fascination as Maka straightened and faced the class once more, continuing her instructions for that night's homework as she brushed the chalk dust from her fingers. Noticing that she had missed a few things, she'd picked up the chalk once more and resumed her earlier position, and Soul fought the urge to cat-call and applaud.

  It was apparent that Maka had missed her students and her job while on the mend from the mission that she'd been sent on with Tsubaki. It had been much more than a little difficult, even for the three star meister, and Soul scowled at the memory of just how battered and bruised she'd been upon her return, nursing a dislocated shoulder and two broken ribs. He'd wanted to go with her, and was pissed when Kid had assigned her another weapon, even if it was one of his closest friends that had been selected for the job. The reasoning that the shinigami had given was that Maka (being a teacher and whatnot) should be able to take any mission with any weapon available at any time. He'd understood it enough, but it had still pissed him off to no end.

  Tsubaki had flinched at the look on Soul's face when they had returned from the mission, the scythe barreling into the infirmary, and had seemed so dejected at the state which she had returned his partner, the guilt palpable around her as Black*Star had consoled her and assured her that she was still a weapon fit for a god like himself. Soul himself had thanked the ninja weapon for taking such good care of Maka, although it had done little to ease Tsubaki's discomfort.

  It took a lot to keep Maka down, however, and she'd been back on her feet in no time, even going so far as to insisting to use Tsubaki in weapon resonance demonstrations and further training. The pair had gotten much stronger together, and Soul and Black*Star had smiled at how well the two worked together, unlike the ninja and scythe, who had always been a bit of a disaster from the very beginning.

  Soul missed working with Maka, but it wasn't like he never saw his fiancé. A possessive glint shone in the depths of his red eyes at the sparkling ring on her left hand, glinting from afar as she set her notebook upon the desk behind her without so much as a backwards glance, too deep in thought as she paused briefly in her notes before finishing her train of thought and ending her current sentence. They'd both been busy with work lately, and Soul was lucky enough to find himself with enough time to spend with Maka during her break today, if he could convince her to play along.

  Her green eyes were bright as she finally set the chalk down, pleased with her instructions at last and watched the majority of her students taking notes, a few hands popping into the air to ask questions which were quickly and efficiently answered. She could feel a familiar certain pair of eyes upon her and did her best to ignore who they belonged to, but the point was futile. She could feel the familiar pulse of his soul, and could practically taste the heat emanating off of it.

  Maka licked her lips nervously and tried to calm her racing heart. So ridiculous. He could play her like an instrument without even touching her, it seemed. This was not the time or place to start something with the scythe, and she commended herself on her strong resolve. She tried to keep her face schooled to her students, smiling brightly as she finished answering the last question.

  Maka's eyes flickered back in Soul's direction just as the bell chimed, signaling that class was over. She bid her students a good day, watching them begin to slowly file out of the room before stacking her papers together and shuffling them against the surface to straighten them out.

  Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, her gaze shooting up to see her weapon fiancé with his feet propped up on the desk like he owned the damn place, looking ridiculously good in his jeans and sneakers, clad in his leather jacket, his hand in the air and an incredibly devious smirk on his lips.

  Maka scowled lightly before huffing in irritation as the last student crossed the threshold, the door slowly coming to a close as she finished organizing the contents of the desktop. She tried to ignore him, but Soul, being the smart ass that he was, cleared his throat loudly to try to get her attention. After three failed attempts, it was apparent that he had no intention of letting up any time soon, and she finally sighed in irritation before growling out, "What, Soul?"

  His smirk grew into a downright lecherous grin as he lowered his hand, lacing his fingers together and lounging his arms behind his head. "I have a question, Sensei!"

  Maka 'hmphed' before turning her back to him, calling out a "Yeah, I'm sure you do!" as she began to erase the chalkboard. So engrossed in her work was she, that she failed to notice the strange silence from him, only realizing it a second too late as his hands caged her in, pressing his firm chest to her back and his palms flat against the now empty chalkboard as she lowered the eraser back to its ledge slowly.

  His breath was warm against her neck as he leaned down and breathed, "Are you free for an extra lesson, Sensei?"

  Maka's eyes widened as she wiggled against him slightly, surprised to feel him so hard against her, his sharp teeth grazing against her ear as he growled lowly and ground himself against her slowly. She turned her head slightly, "Soul," she warned breathily at the hooded crimson gazing at her so attentively. "This isn't exactly the time-"

  "Disagree," he grumbled into the sensitive skin behind her ear, nosing her hair out of the way of his mouth as he placed a kiss upon her tense neck, peeling one of his hands away from the blackboard to trail it slowly down her arm, caressing her wrist with long fingers as she sighed with pleasure at his mouth's ministrations. "I'm gettin' rusty in a few areas," he murmured.

  Maka craned her neck and kissed him, their tongues sliding along one another's heatedly as she reached behind her to grope and press roughly against the hardness straining against his denim. His grunt of approval sent her heart rate skyrocketing. She was a fool to think that she could resist him, especially since it had been a little while since they'd been intimate together. But was she really willing to risk it? Anyone could walk in right this second!

  She should've been ashamed to admit that the idea of being caught red handed making out in a classroom with Soul turned her on, but she was too busy kissing him to care. She moaned as he bucked his hips into her palm, tearing his mouth from hers and breathing heavily against her temple before prying her hand away from him with some difficulty.

  Soul shook his head at her gently, chastising her with a soft "Ah, ah, ah-" He placed a kiss against her temple and grinned at her huff of annoyance at the interruption. " 'Sides," he breathed as he wrapped his hand around hers. "This is a lesson, remember? So teach me." He could feel her confusion a split second before he answered her silent question.

  Maka gasped and leaned against the sturdy frame pressing against her back as Soul's hand guided hers between her legs. Her breath hitched as she bit her lip, completely melting against him as he pressed her fingers against the stiff black fabric wrapped around her waist, his touch firm but oh so right as she swiveled her hips and crooned his name lowly, his tongue tracing her earlobe with the faintest of languid licks.

  Maka tilted her head back and rested it against Soul's strong shoulder while reaching above and behind her with her free hand to run her fingers through his hair. Soul growled as she caressed his scalp with her nails, his fingers continuing to work hers against herself with steady pressure.

  It was tricky and worked her very slowly into a needy frenzy, but given their location and that anyone could walk in at any minute, they were going to have to exercise some caution. He breathed her name against her ear before suckling on her earlobe gently, grinding against her for slight relief as she tugged and pulled on his hair. He so badly wanted to be sliding his own fingers into her wet heat, to stir her up meticulously until she was begging for him, but it would have to wait for another time and place. He only had about fifteen minutes until his meeting with Kid, and he intended to use every second of it wisely.

  Maka whined as she bit her lip harder in frustration. It felt good, but it wasn't nearly enough to get her where she needed to go. Soul seemed to understand that she needed more (like he always did) and withdrew his other hand from the chalkboard's surface to palm a breast roughly through her blouse.

  She gasped and softly called his name as he pinched and tweaked her nipple through the silk, swiveling her hips that much more as his fingers pressed a little harder against hers and urged her to redouble her efforts against herself, letting a gruff moan escape him as he synced the movement of his hips with hers. She was so strung up- so desperate for relief from the pressure that he'd built up in her, and she sighed in pleasure as the sensations _finally_ began to take her somewhere.

  His breath was warm and his words dripping with possessive intent as his low voice rumbled in her ear, letting her know that he intended to let her use him any way she saw fit tonight, to use his mouth on her until she couldn't think straight anymore, and then he'd fuck her good and hard, until she begged him to never stop.  
Maka bit her lip to stifle her cry as she arched her back and came at last, her thighs trembling as she shook and shook, warmth spreading through her extremities, feeling herself grow wet as her toes tingled with the aftershocks of her orgasm, Soul peppering kisses along her neck as she caught her breath.

  She squeaked suddenly as her radar picked up on the approach of Tsubaki, pushing Soul away from her and straightening her appearance a split second before the ninja weapon opened the classroom door and poked her head inside.

  "Oh, Soul- there you are!" She smiled sweetly at the pair as she walked towards them. "Kid sent me to come and find you. It's time for your de-briefing!"

  Soul grunted at her, his slight scowl of displeasure causing the ninja weapon to giggle, believing that it was due to the displeasure for the meeting ahead, when he could be spending time with his meister instead. She turned and headed toward the door, calling out to Maka and stating that she'd be at the training grounds for their meister and weapon training class this afternoon.

  Maka smiled and acknowledged her approval at Tsubaki, sighing in acute relief as the door finally closed behind the tall Japanese girl. She turned towards Soul, who was sighing and frowning with a slight pout. She laughed and apologized timidly to him.

  He tilted his head at her, "What for?"

  She could feel a blush heating up her face and neck. "For pushing you away like that...and not having any time to do you..."

  His smirk was full of lustful anticipation as he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. " S' Okay...'M lookin' forward to tonight." At the dazed look in her eyes, he chuckled, making his way to the door and throwing a wink at her over his shoulder before leaving her to her imagination.

  The door closed with a small click at last, and Maka turned with a groan to press her forehead against the cool chalkboard, wondering how in the world she was supposed to focus the rest of the day with the knowledge of what was to come later that night.

  He was going to be the death of her.  
 

 

 

 

 


	9. Hush

 

 

  Being quiet is so damn tough. It had never really been his strong suit, though, to be completely honest.

  He'd never used to really think of himself as especially vocal, but that all changed the moment that Maka and her mouth came into his life, bossing him around and challenging him, forcing him to voice his wants and desires. From the very beginning she never allowed him to hide himself from her and seemed determined to get him to speak up, about anything and everything, in brand new ways that left him always voicing his state of absolute euphoria while his jaw went slack and his toes curled.

  After becoming more than just meister and weapon, he had once thought that over time he would maybe get used to her lips, become slightly desensitized to the way that she pressed herself against him and perhaps become acclimated to the feeling of her fingers pressing into his muscles and running through his hair. Wasn’t that what all couples did? Didn’t they become somewhat lazily comfortable after awhile? He’d just assumed that they would, as well.

  He couldn't have been more wrong if he'd tried. What a loser.

  All it takes is a well placed look from smoky emerald eyes and he's hard and wanting in seconds. His body responds to her so automatically that it _should_ be disturbing; instead it's exhilarating, especially as she jerks her head down one of the school's hallways during lunch time, indicating that he should most definitely follow her into a random broom closet while the coast is clear; all of her students are otherwise preoccupied and he's got a few minutes to spare. Hell, he'll _make_ time for her.

  It's dark and small, but he can make this work. She may have been the one to start this, but he's taking over and determined to take the lead this time. Pulling her against him, he leans against the door, his hands fitting perfectly at her waist. He wants this just as badly as she does, if not more. Their mouths find one another easily as she molds herself to him, his knee wedged between her thighs. He presses himself against her and swallows her little gasp, his teeth nibbling along her now swollen bottom lip before breaking apart. It's dark in the cramped space but he can just barely make out her face, catching her attention and holding a long finger up to his lips to indicate just how crucial silence is going to be in this little escapade.

  She gives a quick and almost frantic nod in understanding, then instinct takes over. Her tongue is aggressive and heated in his mouth as she slides her hands down to his shirt, nimble little fingers beginning to tug on his tie and unbuttoning the first few buttons with gusto. 

  His own hands untuck her blouse from her skirt, fingers immediately smoothing around her waist to her lower back to keep her as close to him as possible. He guides her against him, pressing his thigh against her heated center with a tad more force than before and feeling her grind down upon him in response.

  She breaks the kiss on a hushed gasp, her lips parted and open against his as he pants as quietly as he's able. They don't have much time and this is only highlighted by the sounds and clamoring of noisy students walking past the door that hides them from sight, both taking a moment to break apart and undress as much as they can before being drawn back together.

  His breath is so incredibly warm on her neck as his lips suckle lightly at her pulse point, being mindful not to leave a mark, seeing as how they're only halfway through the day. Her skin is soft beneath his lips, sweet with the smell of her and so incredibly Maka that it makes his head swim.

  She tilts her head back to give him more access and graciously allows him to taste more of her flesh. Her blouse is open and he nuzzles her collarbone as he kneels before her. Her bra unclasps in the front (how convenient!) and he wonders if she'd had this in mind from the moment that she'd dressed this morning, his thumbs brushing along her ribs as he places a quick kiss to her navel.

  Being married with a kid usually means little to no time for intimate activity, let alone being so ridiculously tired that one finds themselves nodding off at nine pm. Whenever they have a chance, Soul usually finds himself being assaulted in unusual places, at strange times and often busy locations. He thinks that maybe she likes a little bit of danger and that suits him just fine. He likes the chances that she takes with him.

  He'd been shocked when they were younger and she'd insisted on a quickie in their classroom (of all places), allowing him to bend her over a desk, knocking her textbooks and immaculately written notes to the floor, biting her lip and whimpering as he'd fucked her fast and hard.

  He'd realized long ago that whatever initial judgements and misgivings he'd had about his meister at the beginning of their sex life were not only wrong, but so far off the map that he might as well be in the arctic.

  She certainly didn't complain when he'd cornered her in the library and fucked her against one of the bookshelves in the restricted section a few weeks after the classroom incident, but that's another memory for another time. His mind was preoccupied at the moment, doing his best to reign in the encouraging groans blocked in his throat as his tongue swirls around her chest, sharp teeth tugging gently upon a nipple as his ears pick up on the sound of her swallowed moans.

  Together they work her tight skirt up over her hips, his hands moving her panties aside and quickly replacing damp fabric with his mouth, her hands fisting in his hair as he lifts her leg over his shoulder and steadies her. Her hips buck and swivel against him, but it only makes it better for them both as far as he's concerned. There's nothing Soul enjoys more than bringing his wife to the brink with his tongue, gliding effortlessly along slick flesh, nibbling at her engorged clit as a small cry is retched free from her chest. She's so close and he only knows this because she completely loses control of her voice when she's close.

  Pulling his mouth away earns him a whimper that has him shuddering, but his hands are rough as he pulls her fingers from his tangled hair and tugs on her wrist, urging her down to the ground in the cramped space. There's just enough room once she's beneath him with her legs wrapped around his waist, one side of her face illuminated by the light seeping in from under the door, the other side encased in shadow.

  It takes the combined efforts of them both to get his belt unbuckled and jeans undone, his shirt hanging open and loosened tie askew as he shuffles his pants down enough to be able to move freely. He covers her mouth with his as he rests his weight upon his forearms on either side of her, caging her in while he thrusts into her, Maka's thighs gripping him so tightly as his tongue slides along hers. Her arms are wrapped around him and it lifts her off of the floor as she clings to him. He can feel her soul practically shrieking and it makes him pause just long enough to gather the scattered fragments of his brain before pulling out and slamming back into her again.

  He'd like to slow down and savor the feeling of her, but now isn't the time, made more apparent by the almost frantic grinding of his wife below him as she tries to establish a rhythm. She wants him hard and fast and she wants him _now_. He is all to happy to oblige.

  She throatily pleads with him and he replies with a gruff shushing as he complies. Bracing his weight on his hands and knees, he hovers above her as he lowers her back down to the floor, her back arched and head thrown back, her bottom lip between her teeth as he quietly urges her to be silent, else they'll be caught.

  This only turns her on more and he exhales a heavy breath at the feeling of her clenching him so fiercely. She's hot and wet and _tight_ and he finds himself practically forcing his way past it as he thrusts into her again, clamping his mouth shut and trying to keep himself from being the one to give their location away. He catches himself just in time as a low moan begins to bubble up in his chest and he redoubles his effort at keeping his damn mouth shut as he takes a deep, shuddering breath in through his nose.

  Maka's steady grip finds it's way to his thighs as he sits back on his heels, the angle hitting new spots inside of her that has her whispering his name. One of his hands covers her mouth gently while the other one ventures down between them, rubbing firm circles around her clit, driving her out of her mind as she screws her eyes shut and bucks against his thumb.

  Soul tries to fight the curse word tearing it's way out of his throat as she does her best to ride him from below, her nails digging into his skin as he feels her beginning to tremor all around him. She cries out behind his hand and grows stiff suddenly, her hips working her through her bliss as Soul finally allows himself to let go, biting his lip to muffle his own voice and tasting blood upon his tongue in the process.

  Worth it.

  He drops his head as he slumps over her, pressing his forehead to hers and whispering that he loves her, just in time for the bell to ring, signaling the end of their little tryst. He chuckles as she groans into his neck, giving him a parting squeeze before allowing him to disengage from her. Soul sits up, eyes gentle as he takes in his wife's disheveled appearance beneath him. She's breathless, sweaty, flushed, and her hair is in disarray.

  So worth it.

 

 

 


	10. Hold Your Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is "that one time in the classroom" that was referenced in the last chapter.

 

 

  She's crazy. That's the only logical explanation for the situation that he currently finds himself in.

  Soul honestly can't seem to fathom any other reasoning as to why his meister is making out with him all hot and heavy in their classroom, other than the fact that the stress from the upcoming practical exam must have knocked a few screws loose up in that gigantic brain of hers. Hell- she'd been pissed at him just this morning for dragging his feet and causing them to be late. He was tired! Excuse him for staying up later than usual; he'd been too busy watching her come underneath him to worry too much about the repercussions of his lack of sleep. The sound of her voice calling out for him all high and breathy had been irresistible and so worth it. Besides, he didn't exactly hear her complaining at the time.

  The effort of trying not to crack under the pressure of perfect grades combined with giving him a steady silent treatment for the last four hours must have been what caused her to have a serious malfunction. Why else would she call a momentary truce?

  The new jeans he's wearing might have a little something to do with it, too. He'd caught her staring at his ass a few times between classes, but was wise enough not to goad her in front of Black*Star when he was already on thin ice with her. Her hands slip into his back pockets to grope him, and yeah- it's gotta be the jeans.

  Either way, he's pressing into her that much more, her mouth slanting against his rather ferociously as she tugs on his jacket and pulls him against her tightly. His hands land on her hips like they always tend to, thumbs rubbing and caressing as she proceeds to rightfully claim his mouth for her own.

  Homeroom is currently empty, all of their other fellow classmates having vacated the large space in search of lunch. Soul feels a nagging prod in the back of his mind, an annoying little voice warning him that anyone could walk in at any time, that they could be caught red-handed in a situation that could prove to be very difficult to explain their way out of should they be brought to stand before Shinigami-sama himself.

  Ah, fuck it. She's calling the shots here (or so it seems), and she seems to come to the decision to take things as far as she damn well pleases, repercussions be damned. Who is he to argue? She is his meister, after all, and he is her ever faithful weapon, destined to follow her wherever she may go.

  And he _will_ follow her anywhere, happily (he might add), just as long as she finishes what she's started. Who would've thought that his uptight meister was one for quickies? Let alone in a public place? He's a little shocked, to be honest. Maka's always been good at shattering other people's perspectives of her, though- and Soul is no exception in that department. He's finding that he's enjoying her more and more with each passing day. If he's learned anything in the past six months, it's that his previously conceived notion of Maka being an uptight prude was wrong on several levels. She's willing to try almost anything with him, which tells him that she trusts him exponentially, and it's as humbling as it is warming.

  Her blunt little teeth tug on his bottom lip, pulling it into her mouth as he groans and grinds into her instinctually. She works him up into a frenzy so easily with that delightful little tongue of hers and it's absolute perfection as she trails it along the edges of his sharp teeth, sighing into his mouth as she runs her hands up his chest.

  Soul can't contain the full body shudder that shakes him at the feeling of her hands on him. Her bare hands get him going faster than anything else and they're so incredibly warm as they snake under the hem of his t-shirt to run along his hipbones. His hands cage her in against the desk as familiar fingers graze along the waistband of his boxers. He feels his brain melt and his knees begin to shake as she unbuckles his belt, making enough room for her to slide her way past denim and cotton to grip him fully.

  Sweet lord, she'll be the death of him someday. She strokes with surety and his resolve snaps, his common sense escaping him fully with the desire to touch her, too. Let someone walk in- he couldn't care less. He wants to hear her voice call out for him again, to beg and plead with him. Soul moans as he presses his forehead into her shoulder, one hand gripping the edge of the desk, the other grabbing her wrist to halt her actions. Maybe he _should_ stop and think....

  She leans back and frowns up at him, green eyes ablaze with a heat that has him questioning his own sanity. It feels like this should be some sort of strange alternate reality, an odd parallel space of a dream within a dream. There are no spinning tops or little red demons lurking around any corners, however, so he assumes that he hasn't completely lost his mind (for the time being). She asks him in a rather impatient tone what his issue is and he smirks at her. His sass is rubbing off on her and he likes it. His response is to spin her around and pull her back against him, his teeth tugging on her earlobe before letting his tongue come out to play with the sensitive skin behind her ear.

  Her gasp is one of his favorite noises that she makes just for him. It's so incredibly feminine, reminding him that no one else gets to see her all vulnerable like this, arching back into him as his hands press into her thighs, nails raking against pale flesh, leaving trails of pink in their wake, dragging her skirt up slowly with their climb. She whimpers and he thinks that it might be the last straw that snaps the back of his restraint, because he's stroking her through the dampening fabric of her panties with his thumb as she grinds against him that much harder and moans.

  Soul growls in frustration and raw want, his teeth scraping along the skin of her neck as he leans forward, both of their hands slamming down upon the cool wooden surface in frantic desperation, scattering her neatly stacked notes and knocking her textbooks to the floor with a noisy clattering thud.

  The loud sound seems to snap him back to reality for a few moments, making him blink rapidly to cool the heat fogging up the vision of his common sense. He makes to step away, to put some distance between them, to try to be somewhat sensible here, but her hands latch onto his wrists, pulling him back to her. She cranes her neck around to reach his lips and damnit all- here he goes again. He's helpless to her talented tongue as his hand grazes her jaw gently, his touch as light as a feather's upon her soft skin.

  "Soul," she whines at him, grinding back against the hardness pressing into her. He moans and shivers at the tone. "Soul, _please_ -"

  He shushes her, leaning forward to kiss her again. He'll give her whatever she wants, so long as she says his name like that more in the future. However, she needs to be a little more quiet for now if this is going to work. God knows it would be his luck to have a certain red-headed Death Scythe investigate the sound of his daughter's cries and Soul's not exactly in the mood to be castrated today. He breaks the kiss, lips pressed to her ear as he urges her to focus. Is her Soul Perception picking up on anyone heading their way? It takes her a few seconds longer than normal to comprehend what he's asking of her, but when she finally gets it together long enough to scan the vicinity, she gives him the go ahead, and he nibbles at her neck as his hands slide up underneath her skirt, thumbs hooking into the waist band of the only barrier left between them to drag them down down _down_.

  Her panties are around her ankles, his jeans are open and loose around his hips, and suddenly all is right with the world as Soul slides himself along her slickness with a few slow, easy thrusts. He hisses as she whimpers. How can she be so wet already? He closes his eyes and clenches his teeth together, trying his best not to completely lose himself to her as he begins to slide into the mind-melting nirvana that is Maka Albarn.

  Nothing can prepare her for how Soul feels as he sinks into her, reaching new depths and filling her so completely that it leaves her breathless. He's so hard and warm as he moves slowly, his voice a low rumble as he murmurs his amazement at how good she feels. His hands hold her hips steady, pressing and pulling her to his liking as he withdraws, thrusting into her as he pulls her down and against him. She arches her back that much more, bends her knees a tiny bit more, and her breath catches in her throat as he groans encouragements (Yeah, just like that), his fingertips insistent as they press into her skin.

  There are words to describe how insanely amazing she feels (he _knows_ there are), but they're stuck on repeat in his mind and his blood flow has been rerouted elsewhere, leaving him unable to devote enough brain power to string them into a plausible sentence worthy of leaving his mouth. He settles for thrusting into her again instead, swiveling his hips to grind into her, his eyes drinking in the sight of her throwing her head back. She mewls and sighs and he hisses at the feeling of her grinding back down against him with more power, one red eye slamming shut as the force of her pushing back against him jars her tiny frame.

  Soul pants with the effort of holding himself back. He's worried that if he goes at the pace his body wants, she won't get anything out of it, and the thought of her being left unsatisfied leaves a sour taste in his mouth. She groans with a whining frustration and he hums in question.

  "Soul-" she's panting, too, one murky emerald eye catching his gaze over her shoulder. There's a telltale flush to her cheeks. "Just _go_!"

  "Huh?" He's breathless, confused, and starting to wonder if maybe this was a bad idea, because her desperate irritation is palpable. She throws him a look and Soul feels his eyes grow to cartoon sized proportions as she pulls forward, then slams back down onto him, _hard_.

  Fuck, that feels good. It's exactly what he wants and apparently just what she needs so he gives in, pounding into her with little finesse and whining in the back of his throat as she gasps his name. That's what he wants to hear- that sweet tone that really gets his blood pumping.

  His hands are a mixture of rough fondling and gentle caressing as he continues to fill her mercilessly, her breath catching in her chest as he helps to support her. Her legs are shaking and there's a heavy tingling warmth spreading through her toes and to the tips of her fingers, which are currently digging into the wooden surface beneath her. The denim of his jeans feels somewhat abrasive against her thighs as the rustling of their clothes and the jingling of his undone belt begin to paint her a picture of just how incredibly _naughty_ this all is. A heady rush swallows her up as he moans lowly behind her. Good meisters don't do things like this with their weapons on school property, let alone in a classroom, where they have to spend the rest of their day acting as if nothing happened.

  One of his hands reaches down between her legs, pressing against her sensitive clit and pulling a shaky cry from her chest. She's so unbelievably perfect like this, he thinks; so full of life and energy and he soaks up every second of it. Soul moans and redoubles his effort, urging her to come with a gruff command. She's so close, walking the fine line of still coherent and completely gone, and he wants nothing more than to join her.

  It ignites something deep within her to hear her normally stoic weapon sounding so expressive. She brings out another side of him that no one else gets to see, and it sets her ablaze as he moans above her, digs his possessive fingertips into her, pulls her down with a tad more force. Her orgasm washes over her so suddenly that it sweeps her away, and the effort to stay quiet costs her as her knees wobble. Her weapon is there to catch her, his hand abandoning its station from between her legs in order to grip her waist and steady her.

  Something tips the scales for her, because she's gasping and whispering his name as she tightens around him, her legs going weak, her hips meeting his with desperation. It's all consuming and he's eternally grateful, because he's standing at the edge of the summit and wanting nothing more than to tumble down the steep slope with her. He closes his eyes and releases a heavy breath, grunting an emphatic curse with her name mixed in there somewhere as he comes, and comes and _comes_. For the mother of all that is holy, he's never come so hard in his life, and he wonders if the next time will be just as soul-shattering (if not more). His hands settle themselves upon the sturdy desktop where his now boneless meister lays sprawled upon the cool surface trying to piece herself back together. Soul's chest presses into her back as he leans forward to place a kiss to the nape of her neck, and her sated sigh is dripping with contentment.

  It's the sweetest sound he's ever heard.

 

 


	11. First Comes Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Makapedia, who likes it when I write a married Maka & Soul
> 
> <3

 

 

  The doctor may have given her the green light, but it seems that her body hasn't gotten the memo yet. All she wants is to have sex with her husband- is she really asking for that much?

  She's so tense and so very rigid as she rests in bed, fighting the urge to either break down and cry or scream in frustration (she still hasn't made up her mind). It's so ridiculous to think that anxiety and sheer exhaustion can rule her body like a demanding dictator, yet, here she is: willing her muscles to unclench and her worries to vanish with a snap of her fingers. It's not working. Like, at all.

  Maka growls in barely concealed rage at herself, wanting to slap herself in order to get a grip, but settles instead for throwing an arm over her eyes just as Soul creeps back into their bedroom, closing the door behind him with the stealth that every new parent learns early on in the beginning. The mattress dips beside her and familiar fingers ease her arm just far enough away so that Soul can peek at her curiously.

  "She's asleep," he murmurs tentatively, ever watchful as Maka rests her arm heavily across her midsection. Something feels off. Her vacantly distant eyes are on the ceiling, chewing on her lip in thought and he recognizes _that_ look. It's been a helluva long time since he's seen it, but he remembers all too well.

  She's thinking too much.

  Shaking his head with a small smile (because Maka will be Maka), he's hovering above her in an instant, gazing down at her with a calm fondness as he fills her vision with warm red and a sharp smirk. He knocks his knuckles against her forehead gently, his voice rumbling through his chest and into hers as he mumbles, "Hey- quit that."

  She frowns up at him, unamused as she sighs and grumbles at him to stop teasing her. It's not fair. She just wants to get back to where she was when it had been easy, before her body had been traumatized by the miracle of birth, before (as Black*Star had so eloquently put it) her genitals were stretched and torn 'from one end to the other' bringing their daughter into this world. She doesn't _want_ to be scared, but war flashbacks of pushing and intense pain are still fresh, so her traitorous brain goes into overdrive to repeat apprehensive worries over and over and _over_.

  Will it hurt? She's sure that it will, but how much? How can her body possibly be ready for something so invasive after everything that it went through just six short weeks ago? Soul has got to be sick and tired of waiting for her to heal by now, right? What if he finds her too different and loses interest? Maybe he won't be willing to wait for her to swallow her anxiety and summon her nerves-

  "Maka."

  Snapping back to the forefront of her consciousness, she feels the whirlwind winding down to a mild breeze as Soul leans forward to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. He smiles down at her disgruntled frown with a crooked smirk, pleased with himself for derailing her mild panic attack with so little effort.

  So damn cocky. Well played, Evans. He's too shrewd for his own good.

  And handsome. That little grin sharpens just a tiny bit more before he leans down even closer, settling himself between her thighs carefully as he balances his weight upon his hands and knees. His lips brush against her forehead and she smiles a little at the tender touch of his fingers as they sweep her bangs out of the way. He nuzzles his nose along her hairline before pressing a kiss to her temple and she breaks, melting beneath him that much more. Her tank top has ridden up her abdomen and warm fingertips trail along it cautiously, as if afraid that she'll turn skittish and run.

  She almost does. Tensing up again, she's frozen stiffly beneath him, afraid and unsure, but Soul doesn't appear annoyed at all, just completely relaxed and carefree as he kisses her cheek and cups her face, leaning back so that he can look her in the eye. "Maka, we don't have to-"

  She shakes her head, swallowing her lingering discomfort and chasing after her fleeting bravery. She used to be much more reckless- what's happened to her? She attempts to slow down her heart that has begun to pick up speed and licks her lips, oblivious to the way that his gaze briefly flickers to her mouth. "No, I-" she breathes, settles herself and sighs, "I want to try..."

  She does. Doesn't she?

  Soul seems to sense her wavering certainty, the doubt in her tone almost palpable. His gaze is full of patience and understanding and she swears that she doesn't deserve him as he leans down to kiss her slowly. The familiar smell of his aftershave sweeps over her, enveloping her with the sense of home and the soft fabric of his long-sleeved shirt (of course he's rolled up his sleeves) is an odd comfort beneath her fingertips. Her breath leaves her in a shuddering exhale as he kisses the corner of her jaw, shushing her gently as she grips his biceps. His voice is a soothing lull as he murmurs, "Hey, 's okay..." A kiss to her pulse point. "Let's just try next week, alright?"

  Her brow furrows again in frustration. Why must this be so difficult? Her fears may not be completely reasonable, but they're based on valid concerns. She tells her brain to settle down, reasons with it by repeating that the doctor wouldn't have cleared her last week if he didn't think that she could handle it and whispers timidly that she wants to try.

  Soul had been nothing but wonderful to her during the entire healing process, allowing her to rest and re-gather her strength, all the while helping out with the baby. He'd been so supportive, all the way up to her six week check up last week and especially afterwards, when he'd seen her pale face and asked what was wrong. She had shakily explained that they'd been given the okay, that they could start up the physical aspect of their relationship once more and then she'd tightened up, expecting him to immediately pounce upon her.

  She should know better by now.

  Instead, he'd picked up on her skirmish behavior, shrugging his shoulder as if it were no big deal, keeping his distance and never asking or prodding her for something that she knew that he must desperately want. She'd seen the heated glances out of the corners of her eyes and instead of finding her unattractive (like she'd assumed he would after witnessing what had happened in the delivery room), he seemed to be _more_ interested than he was before, something that she didn't think would even be possible. He was keeping her comfort at the forefront of his mind; so typical. Soul had left it up to her to initiate and she'd never been more thankful for him and his undying patience.

  Thanks to her hormones, she'd also never been more appreciative of just how gorgeous her husband was. He was nice to look at anyway, but the sight of their baby propped up protectively against his chest was almost painfully arousing. It had been a long six weeks, indeed. Watching his hands stroke their daughter's tiny back and wishing that they were on her instead was the worst kind of torture, especially when she was still wincing when she was sitting down. Being given the go ahead for sex was a nice reminder that it was all said and done and Maka had to admit that she was grateful to be able to have him all to herself again.

  It looked like she'd have to jump a few hurdles to get there, though. The first being that she had to get her body and mind to cooperate on the same page.

  Soul's gaze connects to hers, searching her eyes for signs of doubt, unwilling to let her go into this half-heartedly or uncomfortably and eases a little when he smiles at the determination that he sees shining up at him. He kisses her, thumb running along her cheekbone as he tilts his head to deepen their kiss and she sighs into his mouth as her fingers grip the fabric of his shirt. She's almost forgotten just how thoroughly her husband's kisses could ruin her concentration. Her worries begin to fade into hazy oblivion when his tongue tracing her lower lip captures her full attention.

  Maka's hands slide up his arms to wrap around his shoulders as Soul presses his chest into hers, easing his weight against her a little more as he settles into her. The delightful pressure is something that she's really missed, feeling so safe and wanted in his arms a sensation that has been absent for far too long. One hand cupping her face, the other settles at her waist rather possessively, and _that's_ another feeling that she's missed from her weapon.

  He breaks the kiss to catch his breath, leaning back just enough to allow her to inhale some cool air. His gaze is soft, but there's a desperate heat swirling in the depths of his crimson eyes. He's almost unbearably gentle, keeping his movements slow so as not to startle her, fingers winding through her hair as they wrap around the side of her neck, his palms resting gently against her thrumming pulse as his thumbs graze her jaw. His voice has a gravelly tone as he murmurs against her lips, "You sure?"

  He's too good to her. She smiles reassuringly against his mouth and offers a small nod.

  Soul leans back and moves up to kiss her forehead. "Okay." His voice is deep and steady, tone somewhat husky as he asks, "Want me to use my mouth?"

  Heat prickles along her neck and chest at his words. Does he expect her to say no? She hopes not, because images of his head in between her thighs has been haunting her dreams for the past three nights. Maka feels her face flush as she gives another small nod, his hands sliding underneath her tank top, thumbs tracing along her ribs. She can feel the amused smile that he presses into her temple at the small squeak that escapes her as his fingers graze the lower swells of her breasts. She's still a little sensitive, swollen from breastfeeding, and he _knows_ this, the smug jerk.

  Before she can say anything, Soul shifts against her, pressing himself into her just a little more as he kisses her gently, his lips warm and tender against her own as he takes his time. His tongue runs along her bottom lip again in a promise of what she can soon expect to come and she shudders against him.

  Soul's hips thrust against the juncture of her thighs just a little, enough to ignite a tiny spark and Maka gasps lightly as her nerves roar back to life with the reminder that pain could be coming shortly. It quells what little warmth has been swirling within her and her soul reaches out for his, seeking comfort and reassurance to settle her once more. His wavelength is sturdy as she latches on and it stabilizes her immediately, allows her to unwind as she parts her thighs a little more for him, sighing against his mouth again as he breaths her name.

  Her eyes are closed as his lips brush against hers, barely touching as he murmurs, "I won't hurt you, I promise."

  Opening her eyes, Maka can't believe how heavy her eyelids feel already at just how little they've done so far. "I trust you," she breathes against his mouth, hands petting his chest soothingly. "Just-" she inhales a shaky breath as his hands fit themselves at her waist again. "Just go slow, okay?"

  Soul presses kisses to her neck as he nuzzles the skin behind her ear with the absolute barest of touches. His sharp teeth nip at her jaw as he hums, " 'Course."

  She doesn't deserve him.

  True to his word, Soul descends slowly as he tastes her neck, nips her collarbone, then avoids her chest due to her sensitivity. He opts instead for sliding her shirt up enough out of his way in order to count her ribs with his lips, paying his respects to old battle scars.

  This is safe ground. This she knows, her body sinking into the mattress with relief, her fingers sliding through his thick hair, sighing at the feeling of his lips pressing gentle kisses to her hips. Soul worships her lower abdomen with his mouth and hands, his wavelength radiating the respectful admiration that he has for the area where her body has carried their precious child, his breath fanning across her skin. His tongue traces along the waistband of her panties and she finds her lower back arching as she bites her lip.

  She's missed this closeness with him. He knows her body so well and plays her weaknesses (like her impatience) to his advantage ruthlessly, keeping her mind focused on him as he leaves gentle kisses along her thighs, grazes his teeth against a hipbone, sucks a hickey into the flesh of her hip.

  Maka arches her lower back with a small gasp, biting her lip in an effort to keep her breathing steady and voice quiet. It's not really working, though, because warmth is seeping through the only barrier currently separating her from her husband's talented tongue, his breath humid and clinging to her, his nose pressing into her clit as he places heated kisses against her center. His hands anchor her waist, slide down to her hips to keep her grounded as his tongue rolls against her firmly.

  She whines, trying to keep her hips still and her noise level in check as Soul grazes his canines along her sensitive flesh. The sharpness of his teeth is dulled by the fabric, but she can feel the playful nip that he gives her nonetheless. Her hips jerk against her will as she breathes his name.

  Wetness seeps through the cotton as Soul teases her with his mouth. He growls in response to her whining cry, deep voice vibrating against her, heedless to her needy tones as his breath curls over her skin, his tongue continuing to prod and tease. It's the best torture in the world, working her up into an anxious frenzy, desperate to feel that slick muscle sliding bare against her with the most intense friction.

  Soul slowly sits back on his heels, the rich red velvet of his eyes smoldering with an almost feral need as long fingers slip beneath the waistband of her soaked panties, Maka's hips lifting in order to help him rid her body of the hindrance. The fabric grazes her skin at a snail's pace as it travels down her thighs, past her knees, below her calves, only to be tugged from her ankles at last, with her fighting the urge to kick them off the entire time. She tries to keep the desperation out of her movements but must fail miserably, judging by the knowing way that Soul looks at her.

  In fact, her weapon looks like he wants to devour her whole as he drops the now useless piece of fabric over the side of the bed, broad palms smoothing up her shins, exuding light pressure where her shaking knees are pressed together, parting her trembling thighs with the barest of touches. He's about to live up to his childhood name and she can hardly take the anticipation.

  His gaze burns as it travels the length of her body, settling upon her glistening core and making his pupils dilate as he takes in a shuddering breath. She doesn't think that she's ever seen him this worked up before. His wavelength is erratic, almost staticky as he fights to go slowly and not dive between her legs enthusiastically. He doesn't want to make her feel nervous; he actually wants to make her melt, to reclaim what is rightfully his, to hear her scream his name as he reminds her just who it is that makes her feel this way.

  Soul's spine arcs as he leans down to press a kiss to her dripping flesh. The resulting gasp has his ears ringing and groin hardening even more (almost to the point of painful) as he settles himself a little more comfortably; he plans to be here for awhile. Maka always makes his blood sing with the beautiful sounds that she gifts his ears. It has him almost shaking, it's so good, and he refocuses his energy into making her croon his name.

  The long tongue that had fascinated her in her teen years unfurls to press against the entire length of her, wrenching a hoarse gasp of shock from her chest as he slowly slides it up to her clit in one long, slow, firm swipe. It's hot liquid velvet and Maka's eyes clench shut as she presses the back of her hand to her lips; the last thing that she needs is for the baby to wake up because she can't control herself. Soul's tongue cups her again and she promptly loses control of her legs as they clamp around his ears, the slight scruff of his cheeks scratching into the soft skin of her inner thighs.

  Soul chuckles breathily against her as he pries her muscular legs away from him, one of his hands sliding down her shivering skin towards the source of her wetness as he nibbles and sucks at her thigh. One of his fingers nudges at her opening as he laves at the entire length of her once more before focusing on her swollen bundle of sensitive nerves. The lithe and limber muscle swirls around the engorged bud, sharp teeth grazing against it as he barely presses his index finger inside of her, refusing to sink in knuckle deep despite how much he can taste her want for it.

  Maka grits her teeth and thrashes her head upon the pillow, the onslaught of sensations almost too much for her to take. She can feel Soul's scalding red eyes watching her as his finger begins to swirl in the opposite direction of his tongue, her hips bucking against him as he sucks on her clit harshly. "Soul-" she moans, long and low, arching her lower back and trying to get him to inch inside of her. He stubbornly refuses, focusing all of his energy on the same spot instead, sucking and lapping at it until she's almost sobbing. Her hands reach up above her head as her fingers creep closer towards the metal rungs of their headboard, needing something to help keep her anchored before she loses her mind.

  She squeaks as Soul suddenly wraps his hands around the tops of her thighs, pulling her down to the foot of the bed with a sharp tug. He slides to the floor and kneels, licking his lips as he adjusts her long legs so that the backs of her knees rest upon the tops of his shoulders, legs dangling down his back. If she's going to grip anything, it's going to be him. He won't let her try and distract herself- that's his job. He shoots a mischievous smile up at her wide, slightly foggy eyes before he ducks back down to pick up where he left off.

  Maka moans as Soul's lips scatter teasing kisses along her slit, her fingers winding through his thick hair. He groans at the sensation and she can't help the small smile that tugs at a corner of her mouth. He always did love it when she touched him while he worked. She has to admit, she kind of likes it too.

  Soul's tongue dips inside of her and she nearly calls his name. She tugs on his hair instead, which he seems perfectly okay with, judging by how tightly his fingertips press into her hips.

  "Oh my god," she breathes as he drinks her in, rests the heat of his entire tongue against her before he heads back up to her sensitive clit. "Soul-" she moans as she arches her back again. "Soul- _please_ -!"

  Her husband hums into her, sucking and nibbling as she throws her head back and proceeds to fall apart stitch by stitch. He knows what she needs, but he wants to hear her say it. He's waited _way_ too long for this moment.

  Maka whines, grinds up against his mouth in retaliation to his torment. He's doing this on purpose and if she wasn't so high strung she'd maybe play hard to get. She's waited _so_ long for this, though and all of the fight has been slowly siphoned out of her by that incredible mouth of his. "Soul," she breathes, tugging on his hair and feeling a sharp cry slip from her chest at the rough nip that he gives her in reply. She shatters and her voice has run away without her consent as she mindlessly and breathlessly pleads, "Y-your hands! Oh- god- _please_ -!"

  Soul slowly eases his finger inside of her, barely penetrating and shuddering at the incredible wetness that he feels. His wife is absolutely soaked and it's all for him. He moans into her as she sucks in a breath, her back arching and ankles linking behind his head as he sucks somewhat harshly, long digit sliding in a little further bit by bit and feeling his hips buck against his will, wanting to feel the liquid silk that is Maka all over him. He halts as he realizes that she's not making any noise and curls his finger gently to see if he can get a reaction.

  What starts as a low purr soon progresses into a wanton moan as Soul swirls the tip of his tongue around her clit, his finger stroking her insides carefully as he begins to move, slowly, easing her back into it with the barest of movements.

  "Oh-" she gasps, her hips turning down towards him as she freezes, eyes clenched shut, hands scrabbling for him as she breathily chants, " _There_! _There_! _There_!" Oh, he _knows_ there, can feel the spot that he knows so well against his fingertip as he presses his tongue against her and laps, determined to get her to loosen her hold on her sanity.

  One of her hands leaves his hair, desperately reaching for something to help muffle the yell clawing inside of her chest and connecting just in time. Maka throws a pillow over her face and _howls_ , hips swirling and bucking against him as she comes and _gods_ he's missed this so damn much, wants so badly for his dick to trade places with his mouth. She twitches and pulses around his finger and it's just too much. He works her through it, helps her to ride it out as long as he's able but realizes about a second too late that his scales have tipped and he's coming in his jeans like a damn teenager, but can't really find it in him to be anything but relieved as her wetness drips down onto his hand.

  Soul's breathless and kinda shaky as he continues to gift her with small kisses and gentle licks that have her hips twitching as she finally pulls the pillow away from her flushed face and allows her legs to melt away from her weapon's head. "Wow," she breathes as she stares at the ceiling.

  He smirks with pride but feels it fade as he grimaces a little over the residual stickiness in his boxers. Gross. Been a long time since he's experienced that particular brand of nasty. 

  Just as Maka inhales a breath, the baby monitor lights up with the sound of their daughter's hungry cries.

  Maka's head flops back down against the mattress with a heavy sigh as Soul's head tilts back toward the ceiling with a groan. They'd get the hang of this whole parenting thing one of these days, they swore.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate feedback, so feel free to leave any! Thanks again and I hope you enjoyed!
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> Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.


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